Harry Potter and the Caribbean Crusade
by poppiecake
Summary: Elevenyearold Harry Potter finds a mysterious book in a mysterious room after sneaking out to visit the mirror of Erised. It will change his life. A Harry PotterPirates of the Caribbean xover. Set after 'At World's end' and during Philosopher's Stone.
1. Chapter 1

Aright, so I've gone slightly (actually, totally) Pirates of the Caribbean mad. So I thought, why not combine it with Harry Potter? It'll be absolutely brilliant! So here you are. The result.

…I've just seen POTC3. Amazing film, by the way. Go see it.

Trouble is, pretty much everything I've written about Jack and co. is now totally, amazingly, wrong. So this needed rewritten. But fear not! I've re-planned everything out, and it'll work out.

HOWEVER, this fic will contain MAJOR spoilers for POTC3. I would not recommend reading it unless you've seen it. There may or may not be spoilers for HP6, and when Deathly Hallows come out, I doubt I'll incorporate it. But who knows?

Disclaimer: Plotline mine. Characters and things you recognise aren't – They belong to either Disney or JK Rowling.

Oh, and please Read and Review!

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11-year-old Harry Potter was beginning to regret sneaking out to visit the Mirror of Erised again very much indeed. It was very late and he was on his way back to the common room. Harry continued down past a tapestry of trolls towards the portrait hole.

He heard a noise towards the entrance. It sounded like footsteps. Harry thought he recognised the fast steps of Professor McGonagall. He quickly wheeled round and headed back the way he had came. The corridor was too narrow to risk just going past her, but it widened out a bit further down.

Harry had only walked past the tapestry again when he heard footsteps coming from the direction he was going. He saw a dark shape coming closer. It looked far too much like Professor Snape for Harry's comfort. Harry turned around again and walked back to Professor McGonagall, preferring to take his chances with her. He wished he didn't have to face either of them!

Harry blinked. A door appeared out of thin air in front of him. He blinked again. The door was still there. He rushed over to it, twisted the handle and slipped inside. The door closed just in time.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and then decided to make sure that there wasn't anything in here that could hurt him in the next few minutes while the teachers moved away. Or, at least, make sure that there weren't any more three-headed dogs.

The room was huge, but not packed with stuff. There were a lot of books and some small glass spheres on a shelf at the back. There was old furniture, like tables and chairs and beds scattered about, laden with stuff. There were piles of paintings and statues on the floor. Directly in front of Harry on a small stand was a very old book. Harry couldn't read the title; it was so worn.

Harry looked around the room for a few minutes while he waited for Professors McGonagall and Snape to go away. He had made up his mind to come back again as soon as possible and investigate more. He suspected that Hermione would love this place.

Harry stopped looking at a large cup with a badger engraved on it and wandered back to the door. He wondered if the teachers were gone yet. Suddenly he noticed two lights above the door. One was on, glowing red. The other was out. The red light disappeared and the green light came on. Harry assumed that meant the coast was clear. He put on the cloak again and went to turn the handle. Then a thought struck him; what if he wasn't able to find this place again? He'd never get the chance to chat with those paintings or look through some of the books. Harry turned and lifted the very old book off its stand. It was surprisingly heavy. He held it carefully so it wouldn't get damaged. Then he made sure the cloak was covering him and left the room.

Sure enough, the door vanished the second he had closed it. Harry was glad he'd taken the book. He looked up and down the corridor. The teachers had gone. Harry hurried back to Gryffindor tower.

Once he was back in his dorm, Harry hid the book under his bed. It was too late to look at it now. He'd read it tomorrow night. He changed into his pyjamas, climbed into bed and was soon asleep.

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Jack Sparrow was beginning to regret raiding that last storeroom very much indeed. How was he to know that the pride of the King's navy happened to be just outside? He knew his he could take them, of course. Well, if there had been one or two, or maybe even three. Four, if they weren't particularly good at fighting.

But there weren't four. Not even five. There were seven. Seven What was a pirate to do?.

Jack was currently fighting with the new Commodore Gillette. He was good. Very Good. But Jack was better. He'd already sent two others off to Heaven or Hell or wherever, and he'd injured another two badly enough to put them out of the fight. That still left him with Gillette and two others as backup, and Jack was getting tired.

Jack lunged at Gillette, who parried the blow and stabbed his sword at an opening. Jack quickly brought his sword down, blocking the blow and slashing the Commodore's arm. It was a shallow cut, but it would sting something horrible.

Gillette was distracted by the injury and found himself with a sword at his neck. He looked up at Jack, eyes hard.

"You won't get away, pirate," he hissed.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You mean like I didn't last time? And the time before that? And the time before that? And the-"

Jack quickly swiped his sword at one of the other soldiers, who had remained mysteriously subdued during the fight. He launched a kick at him, and he fell to the ground.

"Alright, alright! I get the point!"

Jack raised his voice. "This is the day you will always remember as the day you almost-"

CRASH!

Jack's eyes unfocused and he swayed from side to side, and then collapsed. The other soldier stood behind him, holding a broken rum bottle.

Jack woke up with a killer of a headache. And to the smell of rum, surprisingly. He opened his eyes and found himself in a rather familiar jail cell. He glanced to the next cell over. The same prisoners as last time were there. They were calling for a dog. A different dog, Jack noticed.

His cell door opened and Gillette stalked in. His cut arm was bandaged.

"Well, Sparrow," he gloated. "I'm just here to inform you that you'll be hung tomorrow, just after dawn. Pity, really, that it should end like this. I so wanted to be the one to kill you."

Jack barely looked at Gillette. "How were you planning on doing that? You couldn't beat a blind monkey in a sword fight if it had its hands tied behind its back, mate."

Gillette frowned. "You know, maybe I'll let the crowd throw rotten tomatoes at you first. Then you'll be hung." He smiled. "I will enjoy watching that immensely." Gillette turned and left the cell, locking the door behind him and giving the keys back to the dog.

Just before he left, he grinned and said to Jack, "This is the day you will always remember as the day we _did _catch Jack Sparrow."

Jack couldn't be bothered to think of an insulting retort, so he stuck out his tongue. "Don't forget, I ain't dead yet!" Gillette's grin disappeared and he left, guards following.

Jack stood up and went to examine the doors. They looked the same as last time. How did you get them open again? Something to do with leverage…

Jack looked around the cell. There was nothing he could use. Damn. He realised that there wasn't anything he could do right now and sat down. He'd get out of here, he just didn't know how yet…

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Harry woke the next morning to Ron yelling down in the common room. It sounded like he was yelling at Fred and George for something. Harry sighed and got up.

Fifteen minutes later he was down in the common room, wearing his new jumper and watching Fred and Ron yell at each other. Fred seemed to be enjoying it. George sat down next to Harry and muttered, "3 sickles that this lasts till Ron realises he'll miss breakfast if he keeps arguing."

Harry raised his eyebrows at him. "No thanks, I'm just enjoying watching!"

The argument lasted another half-hour before Ron did indeed realise he would miss breakfast. He left Fred in the middle of the argument and stalked towards the portrait hole, his ears glowing. "Come on, Harry," he muttered sullenly, "We'll miss the rest of breakfast. I'm hungry."

Harry suggested that they play a few games of chess after breakfast. He knew he was rubbish, but maybe playing a lot would help. It surely wouldn't make him much worse!

After a filling breakfast of bacon and eggs, Harry went back up to the common room with Ron (Fred and George had left, presumably to cause mayhem somewhere) to play the promised games of chess. Sure enough, Harry lost. Repeatedly. But, thought Harry, after the seventh game he was definitely better than when he started.

Eventually lunch rolled around and passed uneventfully. Ron decided to let Harry have a break from chess and they went outside. Fred and George were already outside, charming snowmen to throw snowballs at each other. Harry wondered how they did that. The spells were at least fifth year level. Maybe the twins had an older friend that did it for them. Or maybe, the twins were a lot smarter than the teachers gave them credit for.

Harry and Ron started a snowball fight with Fred and George against the snowmen. More students joined in and more snowmen were created, until most of the remaining students were competing against an army of snowmen. The fight went on for hours (Even some teachers joined in. Professor Flitwick had a very good aim) until it was dark. Everyone went back inside, leaving the snowmen to fight each other. Fred had assured the teachers that the charms would have worn off by the morning.

It was still far too early to go to bed and although Harry was itching to go and look at the book hidden under his bed, he knew it would look suspicious. He stayed down by the fire for another while, joking with Ron and the twins and roasting marshmallows that the twins had procured on the fire.

It felt like hours later when Harry left the Weasleys by the fireside and went upstairs, claiming that the snowball fight tired him out. He had yawned several times (quite realistically, he thought) but Ron had still given him a funny look as he got up, as it wasn't that late. Harry ignored him and headed up to the dormitory.

Harry knew that Ron probably wouldn't come upstairs until much later, but he grabbed the book, sat on his bed and closed the curtains, leaving only a small gap for light to read by. Harry was about to open the book when he thought of something. What if the book was hidden away in that room for a reason? What if it was dangerous? Harry realised that he wanted to open the book regardless.

Still, Harry would feel safer with his wand. And his pillow. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table and the pillow from behind him. He held the pillow close to his chest, in front of him and held his wand tightly in his right hand, pointing it at the book. He reached out with his left hand and opened the book.

Then Harry Potter disappeared with a loud "Bang!"

Downstairs, Ron and the twins heard the bang and wondered what it was. They worried about it for a minute, but there were no more noises from the dorm.

When Ron went to bed much later, the curtains on Harry's bed were closed. Ron assumed Harry had just dropped something earlier and was now asleep. He didn't worry until the next morning when he discovered Harry wasn't at breakfast. After Harry didn't turn up at all during the next few hours, he told the twins. They mysteriously pored over an old piece of parchment before telling Ron to go to Dumbledore. (Oddly enough, they also knew that he was on his way back up from the kitchens. How did they know that?)

Dumbledore conducted a very thorough search of the castle, the grounds and the local village, with help from the remaining teachers, Filch, the paintings (most of them, at least) and the ghosts.

Harry Potter wasn't found.

Harry felt like he was falling very fast, but in constantly changing directions. He was still holding his wand, book and pillow very tightly. The world was blurred. Harry couldn't make anything out – streaks of colour whipped around him, making him feel dizzy. He couldn't see; the colours were blinding him; he felt like he was going to be sick; why, oh why, did he open that book?

He seemed to slow down. The colours became duller and as he kept slowing, Harry began to make out scenes. There was water. Boats zoomed through at amazing speeds – so fast Harry could only assume they were boats. Then there were islands. Harry caught extremely short glimpses of scenes: people in weird wigs; pirates taking over a ship; a female pirate (Did they even exist?) and another pirate having a swordfight while a huge swordfight raged on the ship they were on…

Harry felt ill. Where was he? _When _was he? When would he stop?

His last question was answered when he suddenly appeared in a rather small, bare room. Unfortunately, he appeared closer to the ceiling than the floor and he fell. His pillow, now below him, cushioned the fall somewhat, but Harry still hit his head on the floor hard. He just saw a man with long, dark hair and a very odd dress sense rush over before he passed out.

To say Jack was surprised would be a rather large understatement. It would be like saying the ocean was quite big, or that the Black Pearl was a fairly good ship. Jack was surprised, shocked, astonished, confounded, flabbergasted, mystified, dazed and taken aback, and he was only getting started.

He'd been contemplating that this prison must be his personal hell, as he could smell rum very strongly on his clothes but he couldn't have any to drink, and he was set to be executed tomorrow. He still intended on escaping, but he'd accepted that it wasn't possible right now and he'd just have to out-wit the guards tomorrow when they led him to the noose. The prisoners in the next cell were dead to the world. _They _didn't have a hanging tomorrow to look forward to. They'd be released in a month or two, then find themselves back behind bars within a fortnight.

Then a runty looking kid appeared. Out of nowhere, like. Just appeared near the ceiling. _In _his cell though. Couldn't he have landed on the other side of the bars and passed the keys through?

Although, he'd have to wake up to do that. The runt was out cold. Well, he _had_ received a rather nasty knock on the head when he hit the floor.

Jack knelt down beside him. He reached out a hand to try and wake him. Jack failed. Miserably. "C'mon, runt…."

No response.

Jack sighed. Looks like the runt would have to wake up in his own time. Couldn't rush it. Jack went to lie down on the (exceptionally uncomfortable) bed, and then he glanced back to the youngster. He paused, and then pulled the pillow out from below him. Jack lay down on the bed and put the pillow under his head. It was an improvement. And it wasn't as if the runt was using it…..

It was nearly dawn when Harry woke up. He looked around after his headache faded a bit. He was in a room that looked far too much like a jail cell for Harry's comfort. The other man in the cell had dozed off – was that his pillow? In the next cell, more prisoners were slumbering. One was muttering about poison. That was a bit ominous….

Harry sat up, and his book and wand fell to the floor with a clatter. It wasn't very loud, but it woke the guy in his cell.

"Oh, awake then, are ye?"

Harry tried to place the accent. American? He was horrible with accents. He could hardly tell Irish from Australian. Harry then remembered that the man had asked a question was probably waiting for an answer. Although, it was a rather stupid question. Of course he was awake.

Harry looked at the man and nodded. The guy got up and offered his hand to Harry. Harry was unsure if the guy wanted to shake his hand or help him up, but he reached out his hand and grasped the other mans, who pulled him up.

"Sooo," the man raised an eyebrow, "Who might you be then?"

Harry made sure he was clutching his wand and book tightly, and replied "I'm Harry Potter. Who are you? And where am I?"

"Me, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and you're currently in the jail at Port Royal. Where are you from and how did you get here?"

"Uh, I'm English, I was at my school in Scotland and I have no idea how I got here." Harry looked around the room. It looked, well, _old_. Not old as in Hogwarts old, but old as in, he wasn't in the 20th century. But how could he have travelled back in time? One way to find out… "What date is it, and can we get out of here?"

Captain Sparrow looked confused. "What date is it? Eh, I think it's the-" he counted on his fingers- "18th of June, 1732. And it's a _jail, _mate. Ye aren't meant ta get out of it! Now, my turn… Why do ye want to know the date and can ye get me out of here?"

"Eh, I wanted to know the date because…" Harry wasn't sure what to say. Was he meant to tell Sparrow the truth? That he'd somehow disappeared from his bed about 260 years into the future and reappeared here? Would Sparrow believe him? Probably not. But, Sparrow had seen him appear here. And he was smart enough to know that that was impossible. Harry couldn't stall much longer. Sparrow was waiting for an answer. "Er, it's a long story. And yes, I can probably get you out of here."

Harry went over to the cell door and examined the lock. It looked like a pretty normal lock. He pointed his wand at it and said, "Alohomora!" The door swung open.

Sparrow gaped.

"I'll explain later," said Harry, "but first, we've got to get out of here!"

Captain Sparrow headed out of the cell quickly, but he didn't head to the exit. He headed instead to the shelf to the left to pick up some stuff there. "Me effects," he explained. "Can't go without them!"

It then occurred to Harry that Sparrow was probably in that cell for a reason. He could have murdered loads of people, or he could have gotten into a huge fight in a pub. He could be evil, for all Harry knew.

Sparrow positioned a hat on his head, made sure all this things were with him, and headed towards the exit. Harry had no choice but to follow. He didn't want to be left alone in a place he didn't know at all. The Captain at least seemed to know his way about. Harry made sure he had his book, his wand and his pillow and jogged after Sparrow.


	2. Chapter 2

And here is chapter 2. Now rewritten to include any AWE differences!

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine. Anything you don't is.

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Harry followed Sparrow through the streets of Port Royal. It was early and there were few people on the streets. That wouldn't last long though. Dawn was approaching quickly and a multitude of people would turn out to see the infamous Jack Sparrow hanged.

Jack Sparrow had a very odd way of running. He seemed to sway from side to side, but that didn't hinder his speed. Harry was very fast himself, but he was having a hard time keeping up. They ran though the winding streets. Left, right, left. Then faster past a military building. Left, right, left again. A drunk stumbled out of a pub in front of them and collapsed on the ground. Sparrow jumped over him. Harry followed suit.

They dodged between houses, past horses and a carriage and round another corner. Sparrow stopped dead, and Harry promptly ran into him.

"Oof!"

Sparrow turned and ran down a side street. Harry glimpsed some people in red coats down the road and heard a distant, "After them!" before he turned and followed.

They spent half an hour running around Port Royal, dodging the Redcoats. Harry just followed Sparrow, which was proving to be a difficult job. They went up hills, down steps, through houses (probably scaring quite a few women) and running down partially-hidden alleyways. It seemed like forever to Harry, who had never run so far so fast in his short existence. Dudley could never have chased him this far. Unfortunately, all the Redcoats seemed to be in very good shape.

Eventually Sparrow turned a corner and ducked into a doorway, pulling Harry after him. They were hidden in shadow as the Redcoats ran past. Once the yells of "Catch the pirates!" had faded away, Jack silently exited and Harry followed.

They reached the edge of the town without major incident. There was no sign of any more Redcoats, and Harry was very grateful. After that it was a short hike through exotic-looking trees to a town that looked like it was about to fall down. In fact, several buildings already had.

Sparrow led Harry to a house that looked a little less likely to fall down than the rest. They went in and climbed several flights of stairs until they were at the top floor. Harry was exhausted by then and leant against the wall. He groaned when he realised that Sparrow was clambering up into the attic. Once he was up, he reached down a hand to pull Harry up too.

Soon afterwards, Harry and Jack had made themselves comfortable with blankets that had already been up there. The attic had been a lot less dusty than the rest of the house, so Harry suspected that this was a hideout Sparrow used regularly.

"So," asked Sparrow, "how did ye end up in the Caribbean again?"

"Er…" Began Harry, "I'm not all that sure. I was in bed, and I opened this book I'd found last night, and then there was a bang. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in that jail!"

"Okay…. And how did ye open the lock on the door?"

Harry then proceeded to tell Sparrow ("Call me Jack!") about magic. Harry wondered if he wasn't breaking all sorts of laws in doing this, but he did owe Jack an explanation. And anyway, it was apparently the 16th Century! Who knew if the laws even existed yet? To his credit, Jack didn't seem all that shocked. It was as if he'd seen many unusual things in this lifetime, and magic was just one more. After Harry was finished, there was an awkward silence. He picked up his book and started flicking through it.

After a few minutes, Jack broke the silence. "So… ye plannin' on goin' back?"

Harry looked up, bewildered. "Well, yeah. I need to. My friends will be worrying about me…where I am… and everything…"

Jack nodded. "Any idea how ta actually get back?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. None at all. This book might say how, but I can't understand it."

Harry held up the book. He knew that it was a spellbook, as it had a very nice, clear layout, and a few of the pages had pictures showing the intended effects of the spell, but as for the words, they were all in Latin. And unfortunately, Harry's experience with Latin was limited to the spells he already knew.

Jack took the book from him, and flicked through it. He didn't understand a word. Understandable, as his education was less than satisfactory.

"Well, I don't speak a word of Latin, and I read even less. Actually, the only person I know who might even speak it is in England right now, and I don't know when she'll be back. I can't ask anybody round 'ere, because I'll just be thrown back in jail, and who knows where you'll end up. Prob'ly in jail with me."

Jack looked hopelessly at Harry. Harry looked hopefully back.

Jack wondered what would happen if he took the kid with him. He was small and scrawny, but Jack liked him. He was a fighter, and tougher than he looked. But could he suddenly reappear with a kid? He'd need to pretend that Harry was his son or something…

Could Harry pass as his son?

Jack didn't even know why he was considering this. He'd just met the kid. The kid had just met him. Hell, he mightn't appreciate having a new father all of a sudden! Jack put the idea to the back of his mind. Maybe he'd suggest later, provided the kid was going to stay with him.

"Erm… well... Jack… could I- could I stay with you?" Well, that was handy.

Jack looked round sharply. Harry must have assumed that was a bad sign, because he started babbling.

"Well, you don't have to let me! Don't let me impose on you or anything, like. But I just thought that it'd be nice if I stayed with you, because I don't know anyone else, and I've nowhere to go, but I'm sure that if you really didn't want me to come with you, I could go, and I'll find someone to translate this book, and it'll tell me how to get home, because it has to, and-"

"Harry? Harry! Stop!"

Harry looked at Jack apologetically. "Sorry, I went on a bit, didn't I?"

"Yeah, a bit…!. Anyway, I wouldn't mind you staying. Really. I'm actually a bit lacking in the 'crew' department at the minute… So, looks like you can consider yourself to be my first mate."

Jack smiled. This would work out great, he just knew it….

Really, he did.

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Quirinus Quirrell stood before the Mirror of Erised, deep beneath the school. His Master had decided that they should act now, in the chaos of the wake of Potter's disappearance.

After all, who would notice when the precious Boy-Who-Lived was missing? They wouldn't even realise the stone was gone. It would be perfect. Once the Dark Lord rose again, few would stand in his way. Harry Potter, if he were here, would be only eleven. An eleven year old would not, could not defeat the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was weakened by worry and sleepless nights- he would not be able to defeat the Dark Lord in battle.

The Dark Lord would rule all, and he had promised Quirrell that he would be second-in-command. Quirrell's master was generous.

But he still didn't take mistakes easily. Quirrell knew he had disappointed his Master in the past, but he wouldn't do it again. He was a good servant now, he would not fail, would not disobey, would not disappoint…

Quirrell stared into the Mirror. He saw himself, distorted, wavy, giving the stone to his Master. He saw his Master rise again, with Quirrell by his side. Mirror-Quirrell stared out at him, blinking slowly, shimmering, _telling_.

Real-Quirrell reached out and touched the glass, but he still didn't have the stone. His master was going to be displeased, and Quirrell didn't want him to be displeased. The Dark Lord could say- and domany things, most of them very unpleasant.

Quirrell shook his head, feeling the turban weigh against his skull, felt it rub against the other features on his head. His Master was getting impatient, but Quirrell still didn't know how to get the stone.

Quirrell could feel his master's impatience building up inside his head, turning into anger. That anger would soon morph into rage and Quirrell began to feel afraid. He pressed both hands against the mirror, felt it wobble, and stared in. Mirror-Quirrell was still ruling beside Voldemort, but it was more distorted now. The image rippled and Real-Quirrell hoped, prayed, that the stone would just appear magically in his hands.

Voldemort was getting angrier. Quirrell could feel it building up inside his head, and he grasped the edges of the mirror, staring in. Quirrell wanted to give his master the stone. Mirror-Quirrell stared back out. He was holding a mirror-stone, whilst Mirror-Voldemort stood up and surveyed his- their- Utopia.

The room started shaking. So did the mirror. Voldemort was _very_ angry. Quirrell could feel the floor tremble beneath his feet, and the mirror wobbled precariously. Quirrell reached out to grab it and hold it still, but at that moment the floor gave an exceptionally violent tremor and he fell. The mirror fell on top of him and he had just enough time to see his reflection gazing out at him before it shattered.

Quirrell knew that Voldemort knew that the stone was now gone forever. That was his last thought before everything went black.

When Albus Dumbledore rushed into the chamber mere minutes later, he found Quirrell dead on the floor, shards of glass scattered around the room, and no sign of Voldemort.

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And there is Chapter 2 finished. I thought I'd add that little bit at the end in to show what's happening in the present (or, for Harry, future). They'll appear every so often, but not every chapter, because I've always wanted time to flow differently in two different eras…….

I know this chapter seems very short, but I honestly don't know how it could be much longer. This seemed a good stopping point!


	3. Chapter 3

And here is Chapter 3.

This chapter wasn't in this originally, you know. I originally just jumped to when Harry was thirteen. Well, that's now changed. Totally. This chapter is going to pick up where I left off instead, since I now have to make Jack and Harry "acquire" a ship…

Thank you to ALL my reviewers! Seriously, reviews make me high. When I'm high, I write. Please keep reading this and writing reviews!

I'm hoping to get at least one chapter out per week. Unfortunately, I'm right in the middle of my GCSEs and my writing times are… irregular, at best. I hope that I'll get them written faster, but most likely it'll be a week or more between updates, so bear with me, please?

Disclaimer: Why do I keep putting these things in? I own neither Harry Potter nor POTC, yada yada yada…..

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Harry and Jack stayed in the attic of that house until the next morning. Jack passed the time by telling Harry of his adventures with the Black Pearl, and how he'd lost her… again. Harry sat enthralled by this new world, still fantastic, but so different to the one he'd left behind.

Jack insisted that they both go to sleep rather early, when the sun was still high in the sky. He said that they both had to get up well before dawn the next morning in order to acquire transport. Harry briefly wondered what exactly this 'acquiring' would involve, before pushing it to the back of his mind. He was first mate to a pirate now, after all. That made him a pirate too, didn't it?

Harry Potter the pirate. The name didn't scare him as much as he'd have thought it would. It just sounded… natural. Harry thought about it, and realised he liked the idea. Alright. He'd accepted it, and he was going to enjoy his time here the best he could.

He yawned. Harry wondered what Ron and Hermione would say, if he came back looking like, well, looking a bit like Jack. They might think he was mad. 'Ah well', thought Harry. He had no idea how he was going to get back, and there was no point in worrying about it yet.

Harry lay down and suddenly realised how tired he was. He thought about it, and realised he'd gone an awfully long time without sleep. He heard Jack snore beside him, and then drifted off to sleep himself.

Harry felt himself being shaken awake at a _very_ unreasonable hour the next morning. He reached over to his bedside table to grab his glasses and only opened his eyes when he couldn't feel them. After a moment of disorientation, he realised where he was and found his glasses nearby. Jack was standing over him, grinning like the proverbial canary-eating cat, looking far too awake for this time of the morning.

"Come on, get up, you lazy blaggard!" said Jack. "We've got to get going!"

Harry reluctantly pulled himself up into a sitting position and yawned. That was the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time. He got up and fixed his clothes – he was still wearing his jeans and the jumper that Mrs Weasley had knitted for him lay in a heap on the floor, where he'd discarded it yesterday on account of the heat. Throwing snowballs at animated snowmen seemed to have been years ago, rather than just yesterday.

Jack hopped down through the hole in the floor onto the landing. Harry carefully lowered himself down after Jack had shown him it was safe. Jack led him out of the house and back to Port Royal. Harry was slightly worried – what if they were seen again? - But Jack just went on. Harry decided to trust him. Jack had probably done this before.

They reached Port Royal again without major incident. Jack wound his way through the silent streets with ease, sticking to the shadows. It was still very dark, only the faintest tinges of red staining the horizon. Harry guessed that it must have been around four o'clock in the morning. That left them with about an hour or an hour and a half to find a ship and sail away.

Jack eventually found the port, where there were numerous ships tied up, each bobbing softly in the water. He led the way down, looking at each ship with a critical eye.

"Not that one… too big… too small….oh, definitely not!" he muttered as they walked past ships of all shapes and sizes. He stopped suddenly in front of one near the end, and Harry nearly walked into him.

"She'll do."

Harry looked at the ship Jack had selected. It wasn't particularly big, but nor was it small. It looked to be about the length of the Dursley's house, and a couple of metres in width, with big white sails that moved in the wind.

Jack clambered aboard, and after hesitating, Harry followed silently. Jack opened a door into another part of the ship and down a corridor, pausing in front of a room from which were coming loud snores. Jack slowly opened the door. It squeaked, but the man lying sleeping paid it no heed. Jack wandered over and saw a large bottle of rum on the floor next to the man. He lifted it and held it upside down over his mouth. Nothing came out.

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" observed Harry.

"Nope. Kid, one of the things you'll learn with me is that it's _always _a good time to drink rum."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Now, we've gotta get this big lump of lard off my new ship!"

Jack grabbed the man under the arms and Harry grabbed his legs. They heaved. This guy was _heavy!_ Harry wondered if all the movement would wake him up, but the man remained in a near-comatose state, all the way up to the deck. It was more difficult getting him over the side of the ship and onto the port, but Harry and Jack managed it eventually.

"Won't there be more people on this thing?" asked Harry, panting.

"Doubt it," said Jack. "They've probably just left him to guard and went off into town to find a tavern or inn or something. We're safe enough."

By then, the red stain in the sky had grown and was tinged with orange and yellow. Time was passing quickly. Harry and Jack hopped back onto the ship and Jack told Harry to cut off the ropes where the boat was moored to the port. Harry did so and then he and Jack leaned over the side and pushed as hard as they could against the pier. Harry felt the ship move under him, and saw the port moving farther away. Jack rushed up to the helm to take the wheel and Harry dutifully followed.

As Jack guided the ship out of Port Royal, Harry watched the town retreat in the early morning light.

After the town faded away, the sun was just visible above the horizon. Jack pulled a compass out from a pocket, looked at it, and then adjusted the course.

Harry took out his book and sat down on deck with it, trying to make sense of some of the words. He couldn't really understand any of them, but here and there he spotted words that he knew, or were similar to English, like 'Aqua' or 'horribilis'. Despite this, he didn't get very far. There were a few pictures, though, that showed the effect of certain spells.

Harry looked up. Jack was standing above him. He gave a half-smile and pulled out two swords, handing one to Harry.

"Come on. Ye can't be me first mate without knowin' how to swordfight!"

Two hours later, Harry was exhausted. Jack had taught him a pile of stances: where he should put his feet, what to do if his opponent jabbed _there_, and lots more besides. Harry had tried his hardest, and Jack seemed pleased, but Harry wasn't happy. He hadn't expected to suddenly pick up a sword and be brilliant – that would have been asking a bit too much – but he felt like he was terrible at the sword fighting thing. Jack was just so _good_! Next to him, Harry felt like he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag.

"Don' worry!" Jack reassured Harry. "Ye'll get better at it. Everyone has to start somewhere. We'll practice a bit every day!"

Harry rubbed his arms. His jumper had been discarded once the sun began dominating the sky. Harry was roasting – his jeans were rolled up, but they were really too heavy to be worn in the middle of the Caribbean in the summer. He'd only been out a few hours and he was already getting sunburnt. His pale body, built for the cold English weather, wasn't used to such heat. Jack had assured him he'd get used to that, too.

"I'm hungry," said Harry. And he was. He hadn't eaten for ages, not since those marshmallows at Hogwarts. Jack obviously shared the same attitude, as he went rather quickly to the galley.

They were lucky, it was stocked with food. Obviously the previous owners had been planning on going on a rather long journey without many stops. After helping themselves to some bread and cheese, Jack took Harry to a cabin to find him something to wear.

It wasn't easy. All of the clothes were made for men, not a small eleven-year old (although, his twelfth birthday was technically next month…) boy. Eventually Harry had to make do with a too-big shirt with the sleeves rolled up; trousers held up by a belt and had the ends of the legs torn off, and boots that were a few sizes too big. He stuffed the ends of his trousers into the toes to make them fit better. A big advantage to the too-big clothes, however, was that they were a lot cooler than clothes that fitted him would have been.

Jack took the captain's cabin for himself (naturally), and Harry took the one opposite. There were one or two more after that, then a pile of more beds in the hold for the rest of the crew that would normally be on a ship this size.

Harry looked around his cabin. It was bigger than his new bedroom at Privet drive, but a good bit barer. There was a bed, a writing desk and chair, and a wardrobe. Harry looked at the clothes. They were all about the size of the ones he was wearing now, so at least he would have a change if something happened the ones that he was wearing. There was a window in the cabin too. Harry looked out- all he could see for miles and miles was the clear blue sky and the matching sea.

Harry met Jack on deck again.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Jack turned and smiled toothily at him. "Kid, we're going to find the Fountain of Youth!"

"The _what?_"

"The Fountain of Youth. Well, technically speaking, it isn't really a fountain. And it doesn't make you any younger. It's a spring on an island, in a general…" –Jack pulled out his compass and looked at it- "thataway direction!" He put the compass back into his pocket.

"Then… why are we going?"

"Well, for one, drinking the water from this spring will make you immortal."

"What?"

"You heard me. We take some of this stuff, we can't die. Well, it apparently wears off, so we'll need to keep some with us. There are stories of people who've lived for years and years without dying, because they have this stuff."

Harry was confused. "So, why doesn't everyone go to this island and get this water?"

"For one, it's very difficult to find. I've got a bit of a map that shows me where it is, and my compass will help too, but even then, we're going to need to be rather lucky. Secondly, it's guarded."

"Guarded?"

"Yep, guarded. Traps and the like. Very difficult to get by, apparently. But if we find it and get past them, we're done. That's us made! If all goes well, we'll be the first people in years to get some of the water, the _Aqua de Vida,_ and then we'll be unstoppable!"

Jack pulled a black piece of cloth out of his pocket. He unfolded it and Harry could see that it was a black flag, with a white skull and crossbones and a red sparrow. It was Jack's flag. Jack went over to the mast, took down the flag that was already at the top and hoisted his own. It billowed in the wind.

Jack returned to the helm of the ship. Harry was still curious about the fountain, but he decided to wait and see how things turned out. Harry trusted Jack- it mightn't have been the wisest decision he'd ever made, but Harry got the feeling he wasn't going to regret it.

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And thus ends Chapter 3. I know this isn't particularly long either, but know you lot know where they're heading. I know I haven't really explained the Fountain properly, but you'll find out more later. And yes, this fountain is actually quite important to the plot… I know it's probably a bit idealistic, but I've spent ages planning out what exactly _Aqua de Vida _does, how often it needs to be taken, etc… and it's rather important for later on (as well as making a good adventure and reinforcing Jack and Harry's trust with each other).

I've actually got everything planned out! I actually know what's going to happen!

Oh, I should warn you, there is going to be romance in this later! And no, it isn't going to be Harry/Jack. It won't even be slash, actually. It'll be Harry/OC! Just thought I'd give you some warning!

I'll update this soon – hopefully within a week or two!

Please R&R!


	4. Chapter 4

And here is chapter 4. I can't believe I'm actually this far in….

I'm really sorry this took so long to get out. Exams and stuff got in the way. Luckily, however, my exams finish this Friday (Yay!), and after that I have a couple of weeks of NOTHING! Therefore, I'll be able to write a good bit more… hopefully!

Erm… I forgot to mention, last chapter, when I said there'd be romance? It's gonna be MUCH later! I mean, Harry's going to be here for quite a while (i.e., years!) He's going to be a lot older when the romance kicks in, don't worry about that!

Also, this is after POTC 3. I know it mightn't be that clear now, but parts of it will be more important later (the Flying Dutchman and its captain will be making an appearance, for instance!)

Heh, and I know I can't really write Jack. He just doesn't come naturally to me, for some reason. Ah well- looks like I'm going to have to watch the films another few times! (What a sacrifice, eh? XD).

(Also, one of my best friends, CREATIVITY-ANGEL-GIRL, sometimes helps me with Jack. However, she doesn't write POTC or HP fics (;.;), but Instant Star. So if you're in any way familiar with that show, go read her fics. Please. I don't watch it, but I think her fics are great anyway…)

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or Harry Potter. I wish I did, but I don't.

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Jack said that the voyage to the island would take a few weeks, maybe more, if they had difficulty finding it.

There had to be someone awake on board 24 hours a day, in case another ship approached or land became visible. Because of this, Harry stayed up late and watched until early morning, and then Jack would take over. This meant Harry slept in every morning and Jack went to bed early, but they still had a few hours together. They ate together, and Jack continued teaching Harry how to swordfight. He was slowly improving, even if Harry hadn't realised it yet. Jack also started teaching Harry other things that sailors have to know, like many different types of knots and how to steer the ship. For Harry, the days passed quickly. They had plenty of food and little danger of running out, since there was only the two of them.

There had also been a supply of rum on board, and Jack had introduced Harry to "The drink of the Gods!" as he called it. Harry had tried it. He didn't mind the taste, but he didn't want to drink too much. He was still only eleven, after all. (Mind you, Harry knew for a fact that Dudley had gotten drunk nearly every Friday night over the last summer!).

And so the days passed quickly. Harry felt himself becoming closer and closer to Jack over the weeks. He came to see Jack as a very good friend. Jack came to see Harry in the same way.

It was one day much like the previous ones when Jack had just taught Harry a new sword fighting move, when Harry thought he spotted something in the distance. He froze and Jack in an instant had his sword next to his neck.

"Jack, what's that?"

Jack spun round and his sword clattered to the deck. His hand instantly went to a pocket and pulled out his compass. He stared at it, and grinned.

"We've found it!"

After that, it was a blur of activity. The island was still a few hours away, but there was a lot to do. Harry and Jack rushed around, gathering supplies, knives, ropes, and a small barrel and a few empty flasks each so that they could bring some of the water back.

Eventually they were ready. Jack anchored the ship safely, and then they rowed a small boat out to the island. They put all their things in their barrels and tied them to their backs. It was uncomfortable, but bearable and far easier than carrying all the stuff. Harry made sure to keep his wand in a pocket, though, and noticed Jack doing the same with his pistol. They also kept their swords by their sides… just in case!

Jack led the way into the dense vegetation, slashing down plants that crossed their way. Harry tried to keep up.

"Can you tell me more about this fountain?" he asked.

"First of all, it's not actually really a fountain. I think I said before, it's a spring. Ye drink the water, ye don't die. Easy as that, really."

"But, you said something- the effects wearing off?"

"Well, yeah. A few mouthfuls will keep ye, well, not-dying, for a few weeks. After that, ye can be killed. So you'll need to take a sip every few weeks to remain really, truly immortal. If ye don't drink it after a few weeks, you won't be immortal anymore, but you won't be mortal, really, either. You'll just be a lot more difficult to kill. This keeps fading away 'til about a year after ye've drunk it, 'til yer back to normal."

"Oh, right." Harry still felt a bit confused, but it was clearer than it had been.

"Also," Jack continued, "drinking it means ye can't feel pain as much. It'll still be there, but not as sore. It makes ye heal faster too, but it'll still scar. And they fade away too, over time. So ye really need to keep drinking the stuff. That's why we've got the flasks and barrels. We can't come back here every week or two. Just not practical."

Harry nodded, even though Jack probably couldn't see him.

"A while back- you mentioned traps?"

"Yeah. S'posed to be some around somewhere. 'Course, I have no idea what they are, or where they're at, or what they'll do. Legend only goes so far, y'know…"

And no sooner had those words left his mouth, Jack disappeared.

Harry jumped. He walked forwards carefully and looked at the ground. Jack hadn't really disappeared; he'd fallen through a hidden trapdoor. Harry crouched down and looked over the rim. Jack had fallen quite a few metres.

"Jack? You okay?" he called.

"Oof!" came the reply. "Yep, I'm fine. Bit sore though. And I can't see a way out- just up. I'll need a hand. Can you tie a rope to something and lower it down?"

"Yeah," said Harry. He un-strapped his barrel from his bag, popped off the lid and dug around for his rope. After finding it, he went to the nearest tree and used one of the knots that Jack had taught him to tie the rope to it. He gave it a few tugs, until he was satisfied that it wasn't going to come loose, and then tossed the other end down to Jack. It just reached. Jack grabbed it and hoisted himself up.

Once at the top, Jack paused to catch his breath, sitting down on the grass.

"That wasn't too bad," remarked Harry.

"It wouldn't have been as easy if there had only been one of us, would it? Or if we didn't have any ropes? And it isn't going to stay that easy, either. That was just a taster."

"…Oh."

"I concur. Now, le's keep going."

They trekked through the dense vegetation for another hour or so. By now, it was a little darker, and Harry sensed that it was only another few hours to sunset. They had to hurry.

Jack stopped suddenly and Harry managed to stop just in time.

"What's up?"

"Did ye hear anythin'?"

Harry listened carefully. He could indeed hear a crashing sound ahead of them. It reminded Harry of the troll he and Ron had fought.

Jack and Harry crept forward slowly, and Jack looked through a big plant.

"Oh, bugger," he said.

Harry peeked through the leaves. Jack had got it in one.

What was ahead of them looked a bit like a troll, but Harry knew it wasn't one. It was much bigger, about the height of a three-storey building, and a greenish colour, with big ears, huge, staring eyes and a mouth that Harry had no doubt could swallow him whole.

Actually, come to think of it, 'Oh bugger' was a little bit of an understatement…

"How're we going to get past this?" Harry asked Jack out of the corner of his mouth.

"No idea." Jack smiled. Harry stared at him, and then shrugged. He was used to Jack by now. He gave his attention back to the problem at hand.

How the heck were they going to get past this thing?

"Do you even know what it is?" asked Harry, watching the… thing… batter a nearby tree with a club. The tree looked like it was about to fall down, and most of the leaves and branches had already deserted it.

"'Course I do!" replied Jack. "It's an ogre… I think. Probably. Most likely."

An ogre. Great. It was pretty much a bigger, uglier, and most likely more dangerous version of a troll. That was just brilliant. Things could not possibly get any worse.

Harry would look back later, and remember that moment as the time when things got distinctly worse.

Jack took a step back and somehow managed to crash into a bush right behind him, creating a huge racket. The ogre's huge ears picked up the noise, and it turned and effortlessly swept away the plant Harry and Jack had been hiding behind. It stared down at them, at least five or six times Harry's height.

"Oh, bugger," said Harry.

"Run!" said Jack.

Harry darted between the ogre's huge legs and Jack ran around them. The ogre, confused as to why its prey had disappeared, spun round after them. It got angry. Why were they annoying it?

Jack dived for shelter in a bigger bush with quite a few thorns, and Harry ran. The beast decided not to bother hurting its hand with thorns, and lumbered after Harry. Harry was quite a fast runner, but his legs were like matchsticks compared to the ogre's, and it caught up quickly. Harry ducked behind a tree and it crashed onwards before it realised that the thing he'd been following had vanished again. It turned and spotted Harry up against a tree. He raised his club, the length of a lamppost and as wide as a car.

Harry was trapped. This had never been how he'd pictured dying. Ending up as ogre food. He remembered Ron and Hermione, and pulled out his wand. He said the first spell that came into his head.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew out of the ogre's hand and into the air. It looked up. The club fell and hit the ogre over the head with a crash.

Harry stared. Thank you Ron! That was pretty much exactly the same as what had happened at Halloween.

As Harry thanked his lucky stars for Ron Weasley's rescue techniques, Jack, having heard the crash, ran to Harry and nearly managed to run into the ogre, not having expected to find it lying motionless on the ground.

"Wha' happened?"

"I knocked it out!"

"I noticed. How?!"

"Spell I learnt in school."

Jack stared. "Your school teaches you how to knock out gigantic beasties?"

"No. My school taught me how to make things fly."

"Oh. Right." Jack didn't ask any more questions, so Harry thought he'd figured out what had happened.

"I dunno how long this dude's out for, though. What're we going to do with him?"

Jack drew his sword.

"Only one thing we can do, really," he said, "Don't want to come back through and find this guy awake and angry."

He raised his sword, and in one swipe, he cut off the ogre's head.

Harry turned away. He felt rather sick after seeing that. Jack put his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Had to be done, kid. Otherwise it'd have got us on the way back."

Harry looked up at Jack and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I have to be particularly happy with it, though. It was kinda… bloody."

Jack looked down at him. His eyes were kind. "Had to be, Harry. And, if it makes ye feel any better, it didn't feel anything. Now, we've gotta keep going."

Harry nodded resolutely. He knew it was necessary, and he knew he'd get over it. He just wasn't used to seeing things like that.

Jack led the way forward through the trees. Harry couldn't help wondering if whatever they would face next would be worse than the ogre. Harry couldn't imagine anything being worse! He would have been killed back there if he hadn't had his wand with him.

For the first time, Harry realised the full extent of what he had gotten himself into.

Harry and Jack walked and walked for another few hours, until the sun sank below the horizon. Jack came to a stop in a small clearing.

"We'd better stop for the night. Bad thing if we walked straight into another trap, just because we couldn't see it."

Harry wholeheartedly agreed. He was getting very tired anyway. He unstrapped his barrel from his back and sat down on the grass.

"We'd better take turns as lookout," Jack said. "I'll go first, and I'll wake ye up in a couple of hours. Then ye wake me at first light, and we'll head off again."

Harry nodded. He took a flask of water out of his pocket and had a drink, then leaned against a tree, falling asleep almost immediately.

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And there is chapter four completed. I want to say a huge THANK YOU to all my reviewers, because every single time I read a review, I get totally high on them.

Please keep reviewing!

'Til next time!


	5. Chapter 5

And here is Chapter five. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor POTC. If I did, believe me, there'd be a lot more taking-off-of-shirts.

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Jack, as promised, woke Harry up in the very early hours of the next morning, before lying down land falling asleep himself.

Harry helped himself to a small breakfast of bread and water, before standing up and surveying the clearing. It was small, with plenty of trees around it. That was all Harry could make out in the darkness.

The night was still, and the silence broken only by Jack's occasional snore. Harry leaned the tree and tried to keep his eyes open, but it was hard. He tried reciting his times-tables and the alphabet backwards, and that seemed to help. He didn't fall asleep, at any rate.

It felt far longer than several hours later when Harry first noticed that it was getting lighter. He peeked through the trees and saw indeed that the sun had just started to rise. He went back over to Jack and shook him awake.

Ten minutes later, they were off again, marching in a direction that Jack had located using his compass. They didn't talk much – they were still slightly drowsy and wary of the next obstacle that would cross their path.

They walked for hours more, until the sun was high in the sky and their feet were sore.

The heat was terrible, so Jack decided that they should take a rest. They sat in the shade of a tree and shared another piece of bread and a few biscuits, and drank some more water. Harry noticed that they didn't have much more left – they needed to find the spring today, otherwise they'd just collapse from thirst.

Jack didn't seem to be at all pessimistic about the apparent lack of water. He seemed cheery. "Don' worry, kid," he said, "Shouldn't be that far now."

After a few minutes rest, they set off again.

Indeed, it wasn't long before they heard the sound of running water. Harry saw Jack smile and pick up the pace. It wasn't long until they were jogging along.

Then they found a stream. The water was clear and clean, and Harry could see the pebbles in the bottom. He bent down, to take some in his hand and try it, but Jack stopped him, frowning.

"Something's not right. Why aren't there plants or fish or anything in the water?"

Harry looked again and realised Jack was correct. Harry could see the pebbles clearly, but there wasn't a single plant in the water, not even a leaf floating downstream.

Harry looked round. He thought he saw something behind a big, leafy fern-type plant and went over to check.

"Jack!"

Behind the plant was a human skeleton, one arm reaching out towards the stream. Jack hurried up behind Harry and looked at it. He took off his hat.

"That's… interestin'…" he said. He looked at the stream again. "That ain't Aqua de Vida. If it was, he wouldn't be 'ere. That stuff's prob'ly poison." Jack checked his compass again. "Now, we've gotta keep goin' that way…" He pointed towards some trees and they set off again.

They walked for another few hours. Harry grew thirsty again and drank the last of his water. He really hoped that they came to the spring soon, because he would need another drink before long.

They were making their way through some particularly dense undergrowth when Harry thought he heard something. A voice. He stopped, and Jack looked round at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Did you hear something?" asked Harry.

Jack shook his head. "The heat might be getting' to ya, mate. But don' worry, it's not long now, or it shouldn't be, at any rate."

Harry shook his head to clear it, and continued after Jack. Maybe the head was getting to him…

Another hour later, Harry was still hearing a voice. He couldn't make out what it was saying, though, and that annoyed him. He'd told Jack another few times, but Jack couldn't hear it. It must be the heat, thought Harry; why else would I be hearing voices? Once or twice, he also thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, something long and big and green like the plants, but he told himself that that was just the head too, playing tricks on his mind.

Harry hoped that they'd find the spring soon. He felt like they must have walked miles and miles, but the island hadn't looked that big when they'd approached on the ship.

Then he heard the voice again, and this time, he could make out what it was saying.

"They approach… Looking for the water of life, most likely. But I mustn't let them. Not allowed to pass…. I have my orders…"

Harry stopped again. "Jack!" he called, alarmed.

"Yeah?"

"I heard that voice again. I'm not imagining it. It's the next trap, it knows we're coming!"

Jack nodded. "Didn't happen to say what it is?" Harry shook his head. "Thought not. That'd have been too easy, now, wouldn' it?" He smiled again at Harry, and started going forwards again, cutting through the vegetation.

Harry was really worried, but followed Jack nevertheless.

Then Jack stopped quite suddenly.

"Oh, bugger," he said.

Harry looked past him and echoed him exactly.

In the clearing in front of them was a snake. And not just any snake, either. It was a huge monster, as thick as a train around the middle. It was green and black, and as Harry watched, a gargantuan head rose from the middle and it spied them. Harry was sure that if it could have smirked, it would have.

They turned and ran. The snake followed, and Harry could hear it _talking_! He didn't know snakes could talk!

"Oh, yes. I'm hungry…. they'll make a good meal for me, haven't eaten in ages….. Not since that last one to come through….. And there was only one of him, so there was, and he was awfully thin…."

Harry ran as fast as he possibly could, only just managing to dodge the trees. Jack was a faster runner, though, and Harry could see the distance between them growing greater with every passing second.

He spared a glance backwards. The snake was catching up on him easily- it didn't even look like it was trying to go particularly fast. Harry looked forwards again, to see if the forest ended soon and he could get to the sea, because he doubted that the snake could follow him there.

He didn't see the coast. He saw a tree. Right in front of him. It was too late to swerve, or even to stop. He ran straight into it. The force of the collision made him fall to the ground and he even passed out for a few seconds – or Harry thought he did, at any rate. Maybe he just closed his eyes and pretended this simply wasn't happening.

Except when he opened his eyes again, it was. He was lying on the ground, and he quickly scrambled to his feet again. It was too late; the snake had stopped right in front of him, its body reaching around the tree in a wide circle, just to make sure he had no escape.

Harry thought about his weapons. He had a pistol on him, and a sword. But what would they do against a reptile this size? The bullet from the gun would only annoy it further, and his sword looked like a matchstick compared to the snake.

"Ah…. The small one," it said. Harry could hear the slight hissing quality to the snake's voice. "I have my orders, and I'm rather hungry…" Its head rose and it opened its mouth, baring its fangs, each longer than his sword. It was ready to strike.

Harry raised his arms. He thought about the python he'd seen at the zoo, and how it had understood him. He wondered if this snake could understand him too. It was worth a try.

"Stop!" he yelled out of desperation.

And the snake did. It looked down on him with something akin to surprise in its eyes.

"You speak?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Probably. Please don't eat me?"

The snake looked down on him, with amusement in its eyes now. "I must eat you. It is my duty on this island. I am to guard the fountain."

"Who for?" asked Harry.

"I know not. I just know it is my task, to prevent all but the most worthy from reaching the Water of Life…"

"Tell you what," said Harry, praying that his idea would work. It was either this or death. "Guard it for us. Me and Jack- the other guy I was with. Don't let anyone pass but us."

The snake laughed. Or, at least, Harry thought it did. It sounded rather odd. "If I did, then what would I eat? I am a living creature, I need not much, but I do need something. I have not eaten in years."

Harry nodded. "Of course you haven't. Which is why you shouldn't eat us, because me and Jack, we're tiny, compared to you. Miniscule. Wouldn't even make a decent snack. For a creature of your stature, we aren't even worth considering eating!"

"Yet, you are here. Beggars cannot be choosers. I have had naught but small animals to eat for far too long. You may be small, but they are many times smaller! You will be a feast for me."

Harry shook his head. "Not really. Tell you what. Let us, me and Jack, pass, and we'll give you something bigger!"

"Bigger?"

"Yes, bigger!"

"And how, pray tell, would you get me anything bigger?"

"… We killed an ogre. A big one," Harry remembered. "It'd be plenty of food. It's huge! It'd fill you up no problem, really. And compared to it, we're too small to even be bothered tasting."

The snake looked like it was considering the possibility. Harry was delighted- not-so-certain death was far better than certain death any day.

"However," the snake hissed, "This still leaves us the problem that I am here to guard the Water of Life. I simply cannot just let you by this easily…"

"Sure you can!" Harry smiled. "Why not? I'm willing to bet you've been a great guard of the Water. Really. Brilliant. The best. But me and Jack, we're not really doing any harm, are we? Just let us by, nobody else that stumbles on this place. You can eat them, no bother. Just let me and Jack through, now, and if we come back. It'll be our secret. Come on!"

"… Be that as it may, I simply cannot let you past and stop all others. It would be unfair."

"…. Has anyone ever asked you to let them past before?"

"No."

"Well, then," Harry said "If anybody else asks you, let them past. If they don't, feel free to eat them. I assume I'm right in thinking that not everyone can?" The snake nodded. "Well, what's the problem? Let me and Jack past, and anyone else who gets this far and can ask, and eat everybody else who happens this way. Might be a few more than normal now, since we killed that ogre-thing. Plus, you get the ogre itself to eat. Don't see what you're complaining about, personally, because, it's only because we came that you'll get anything at all!"

"….. And the ogre is very big?"

"Humungous!"

The snake paused and thought about it. Harry crossed his fingers. And toes. And eyes.

He hoped the snake would agree. He didn't want to die this young, after all!

"Fine."

Harry looked up, not daring to believe it. "You won't eat me, or Jack, not even if we come back to get more?" he asked.

The snake stared at him. "No. You have my protection now…. I do not know precisely how you have persuaded me around to this, but I am a reptile of my word. Neither you, nor your companion, will be harmed by me, now or if ever you shall return."

Harry's mouth dropped. He was speechless for a few minutes – he'd just persuaded a gargantuan snake not to kill either him or Jack, and to not harm them if they return! - And then thanked the great beast profusely.

It had looked down on him with amusement, and then slithered off in search of the dead ogre.

Harry's legs gave out and he collapsed against a tree. He was exhausted, now, and his thirst had come back. Then he heard a twig break behind him and was instantly alert. There couldn't be anything else on this Goddamn island, could there? He couldn't face anything else.

But he needn't have worried. It was just Jack.

He came out and looked round. He spotted Harry. "Right. So, beastie gone?"

Harry looked up at him, smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It won't hurt us. Now, or if we ever come back…"

Jack looked astounded. "Dare I ask how?"

Harry got up and grinned. "I asked it. Took a bit of persuading, mind you, but we're safe. Now, can we keep gong before I die of thirst here?"

Jack nodded. "Fair enough. One question, though. How the bloody hell can you have a conversation with a snake?!"

Harry thought about that. How come he could talk to snakes? That one had said no-one else it had come across could. "I don't know," he replied, honestly. "I just can. Maybe it's a magic thing. Never heard anyone else mentions it, though." He didn't really mind, actually. After all, it had just saved their lives.

Harry and Jack started walking again.

It wasn't long, only about fifteen minutes, until Harry heard the sound of running water. He and Jack sped up, because by now, both were extremely thirsty. And if the only drink nearby happened to make you immortal, even better.

It was only a few seconds later that they found a shimmering stream running across their path, coming from a small pool of water several metres away. Unlike the last one, this water had very healthy-looking plants at the bottom. The water was crystal clear, and seemed almost magical…

Jack grinned and turned to face Harry. "We've found it!" he said triumphantly.

Harry grinned right back at him, and quickly unstrapped his barrel from his back. He bent down to the water and scooped some of it up it his hand to take a drink. Next to him, Jack did likewise.

The water tasted amazing. It was cold and fresh, but different than anything Harry had ever drank before. His thirst vanished, and Harry suddenly felt brilliant, like he could do anything. He grinned, and wondered how long this feeling would last for.

Harry was happy. Not just content-happy, but euphoric-ecstatic-happy. He looked at Jack and saw that he was grinning like a loon too.

They quickly filled their flasks and barrels, sealing them with a lid they'd brought along. The joy slowly faded, to be replaced with a contentness that kept a small smile on Harry's face.

After an hour or two, Jack said that they should head back to the ship if they were to make it back to the ship the next day. And so, they made sure that they had their supply of water, enough food to make sure they didn't go hungry on the way back, and set off again.

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Well, that's one adventure over, and there's still quite a few more to go! We'll be skipping ahead another few months now, in the next chapter!

Please review – reading them makes my day!

'Til next time!


	6. Chapter 6

And here doth commence Chapter 6…

Heh, this was originally meant to be Chapter 3. But, thanks to AWE, it's now been promoted to Chapter 6 (after quite a large amount of rewriting, of course!)

Oh, and a warning here; I CANNOT write accents. I am absolutely TERRIBLE with them. So please don't be worried if for some reason, Jack seems to talk like Hagrid or something. That's just me messing up his accent, alright? Actually, I have a problem writing Jack! I don't actually know why, 'cause I love him to bits. So if he seems REALLY OOC, please say where and how in a review!

Oh, and since I've mentioned reviews, THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU to all of you who've reviewed! I want to give all of you a big hug. Really. I adore you all! Please keep reviewing!

Oh, and a question asked in reviews was if Harry was going to be powerful. Well, in a word, yes. But it will have limits; after all, he has to teach himself! There were other questions asked too, but many of them are ones I can't really answer, because the story'll deal with them soon enough . But yes, we will be meeting up with the other POTC characters… eventually!

Do I really need to write a disclaimer? Fine: JK owns Harry Potter and anything you recognise from that world. Disney owns POTC and anything you recognise in that world. Whatever's left is either mine or actually existed.

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A nearly-thirteen year old Harry stood on the deck of his and Jack's ship. His hair had grown longer, and was tied back. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, grubby brown trousers, and leather boots. A red bandanna covered his head and his bright green eyes, now without glasses, were lined with charcoal.

All-in-all, he looked awfully like Jack. Except, maybe, not as…. quirky…

He stared out into the distance, and spotted a dot on the horizon. It was another ship, heading directly towards them. Harry quickly turned and, dodging the crew they'd picked up at a port a few months ago, headed below deck to the captain's cabin to fetch Jack.

As Harry entered, He saw Jack poring over his chart that he had taken from Barbossa over a year ago now. As he entered, Jack stopped and looked over at Harry, his brown eyes questioning.

"There's another ship approaching," said Harry calmly.

"Colours?" asked Jack, wondering what –or who- was on board it.

"Can't see them yet. Too far away."

"Right," Jack paused. "Go on back up and watch it. Aren't usually many Navy ships in this part of the sea. Once you see the flag, get down 'ere again"

Harry nodded and left Jack and to it.

On the deck again, Harry retrieved a battered telescope and peered through it. It took a while for him to make out the flag it was flying, but when he saw it clearly, he cursed. It was the Navy. What were they doing in this part of the sea? He stared through the telescope to the ship and studied it carefully. It was a rather small ship, and there weren't that many people on deck. This was good; there didn't seem to be many soldiers aboard. If they fought hard, they would probably be able to fight them off.

Harry turned and headed back downstairs to Jack.

When he entered the cabin again, Jack's eyes were immediately on him, and he'd put his stuff away. "What's the news on this ship?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "Bad luck, I'm afraid. It's the Navy, and they're heading straight for us. Probably seen us before we seen them. Can't get out of this one…"

"Right," said Jack. "You go ready the cannons; I'll go up on deck and inspire those scallywags into actually fighting decently for a change."

And so, Harry found himself, twenty minutes later, standing on the deck with most of the crew. This would be his first actual swordfight, as for the previous ones he had been below deck, tending to the cannons and the injured. He hadn't been a good enough fighter. However, Jack had been giving him lessons since he'd arrived and Harry was now nearly at the same level as him.

The other ship drew level with them, and Harry could see that the ship was indeed one of the Royal Navy for the British Empire.

There was a pause, a moment of complete silence apart from the calming noise of the sea, and then all hell broke loose.

Cannons fired from both ships, and redcoats threw grappling hooks over. Harry drew his sword and prepared himself. As the first soldiers reached the side of the ship, Harry charged forwards with the rest of the crew, into the heat of battle.

An hour later, it was clear that Harry and Jack's crew had the advantage. The other ship was badly damaged by cannon fire, but they had been lucky and suffered much less. Despite slashing his sword at many a redcoat, precious little blood had stained it. In many ways, Harry preferred it that way. He didn't know if he would really have the guts to kill somebody. He'd fought with many, though, but couldn't defeat them and each time was lucky enough that a nearby crewman had seen him and a quick stab was all it had taken for another lifeless corpse to fall to the deck.

Harry sheltered in a hidden doorway for a minute to catch his breath. As he looked up, his heart gave an unpleasant jolt. Jack was fighting with the captain of the other ship, and although Harry could see that he was talking to the other man, it was blatantly obvious that all the witty swordfight banter in the world wouldn't stop this redcoat winning. Jack was good, but this guy was better. Harry knew what he had to do. He sneaked up behind him, raised his sword, and slashed it down. The other man didn't realise until it was too late, turning around as the sword came down. He didn't stand a chance.

After realising that their captain was dead, the other soldiers surrendered. Jack took charge and marooned them on a small island with a pistol each. Harry's first real battle was over, and he retired to his cabin, next to Jack's. Being the son of the captain had its advantages- everyone else had to share the crew's quarters below.

Lying down on his bed, Harry closed his eyes and listened to the sea outside. He found it very soothing. For his first few nights on the ship, Harry remembered, he hadn't been able to sleep because it was so different than what he was used to. He'd eventually gotten used to it though.

Harry reached under his bed and pulled out his book. He still didn't understand any of the words, but he'd studied it nearly every night, looking at the layout and diagrams and trying to make some sense of it.

He'd gotten somewhere- all of the pages had a different spell as a title, he had realised. Some of these pages also had a diagram illustrating what the spell was supposed to do. Harry had tried a few, even though that was probably very dangerous. He was in the middle of learning a spell that summoned objects to him, and after that he wanted to try one that, according to the picture, would make him invisible, or nearly that, anyway. He retrieved his wand from where he'd hidden it under his blankets and pointed it at an empty bottle across the room.

"Accio!"

The bottle flew across the cabin and Harry raised his hand and caught it. He grinned. He threw his pillow to the other side of the room and summoned it.

He spent the next hour practicing the spell, until a knock came at his door. He quickly stuffed the book under the bed and his wand back under the blanket. "Come in!" he called.

Jack opened the door and entered, closing it softly behind him.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked.

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. "Practicing."

"Practicing swords or…."

"Magic."

"Ah. Right. Well…"

Jack came over and sat at the end of Harry's bed. He looked unusually serious.

"Listen, I wanna talk about earlier. And," he looked at Harry, "do NOT make this any harder for me, right? I wanted to say… thanks. For the life-saving thing. And I was also wonderin' how ya were holdin' up. That was your first real fight, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"And that means it woulda been your first time that you…" Jack made a slashing motion across his neck with his hand.

Harry nodded again.

"So… how are ye?"

Harry shrugged. "I just haven't been thinking about it, I guess. I don't want to think about it, because if I do, I know I'll start feeling guilty, because that guy could have had a kid or a wife or something…"

"Yeah, but if you hadn't, I wouldn't have been here. And if I weren't here, God knows that we'd all be in the locker by now. Believe me, you don't want that. Better them than us, savvy?"

Harry looked up at Jack and smiled. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"My advice is, keep on going. Don't think about it. I was the same as ya. You'll get over it, don't worry. Most likely your' gonna hafta kill someone again, sometime in the future. It's just part of the job." Jack stood up.

Harry looked up at him and nodded.

"Say, kid, when's your birthday again?" asked Jack suddenly.

"Next Tuesday."

"31st?"

"Yeah"

"Right!" Said Jack. "We'll do somethin'. Dunno what. But we'll think of somethin'. It'll be good. Thirteen, won't it be?"

"I'll be thirteen, yeah."

Jack looked at Harry for a moment, then suddenly reached down and pulled him into a quick, one-armed hug. Harry grinned. He knew it didn't seem like much, but he also knew that Jack didn't get very emotional either. He wasn't the type to give out hugs.

Jack pulled away and Harry looked up at him. He made up his mind; he was going to ask the question that had been on his mind for the past few days.

"Jack…"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call you Dad?"

Silence.

Harry panicked. Was it too soon? He'd known Jack for over a year now, and he honestly thought of him as his father, but did Jack see him as a son? He was about to open his mouth again, say, no, he was only joking…

Then Jack replied, "Oh bugger." Harry's heart sank, but Jack continued, "No, it's not that! I'm just not good with the touchy-feely emotions thing." He paused. "Ah, what the hell. Call me Dad."

Harry grinned from ear to ear, then launched himself off the bed and tackled Jack, "Thank you!"

"Not a problem. Now, get some sleep."

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I'm sorry that this was so short. It's probably the shortest or second shortest yet. Sorry, but I thought that that was a good stopping point!

Ehhh. Again, I apologise for Jack in this. He just wouldn't come out right! But I've now watched POTC again and I've been listening to the music all week, so maybe that'll inspire me some….

I hope that I'll get the next chapter up soon!

Note: A HUGE glomp goes out to my friend, CREATIVITYANGELGIRL, who is apparently far, far, FAR more experienced in Jackisms than I am. (God knows why!). She is a tremendous help.

'Til next time!


	7. Chapter 7

So. Chapter 7. Gasp. Never actually thought I'd get this far!

Oh and in a review, someone asked why Jack had to be saved? Well, he couldn't be killed, but he could still be injured enough to put him out of the fight, even with accelerated healing powers. And if he can't fight, the rest of the crew would eventually lose too.

(And then there's the minor fact that I'd written that before AWE and had forgotten that he couldn't die. Thanks HellsMaji!)

Sorry that this took so long to get up, guys! We've just got a (badly needed) new computer, but it took a while to get everything transferred over and the internet connected again. And then it wasn't the easiest chapter to write, either.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything from that world you recognise ain't mine. Same for POTC. Anything you don't know is either mine or an actually historical reference (But mostly mine). Are disclaimers REALLY necessary on what is clearly FANfiction?

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Harry felt like he was floating on air for the rest of the week. Jack let him call him 'Dad'! Jack thought of him as a son! Harry placed the guilt he had felt for killing that soldier at the back of his mind, as Jack had advised, and he had never felt better. He had realised that killing him had been necessary, in the end

Jack announced on the Saturday that they were all going to go into Tortuga to celebrate Harry's birthday on the Tuesday, as they were going to leave on the Sunday for a good while. The crew were happy with this- they liked Harry, and any excuse for a drinking session was a good thing!

So, on Saturday afternoon, the ship made berth in a hidden cove not far from Tortuga, and rowed to the town. By the time Jack had found his favourite tavern, it was getting dark. "That would be when all the fun happens," quipped Jack.

The tavern was relatively quiet, but in Tortuga that still involved a considerable amount of noise. The crew knew many of the locals- which was understandable, as most of them were from Tortuga- but they introduced Harry, and Harry felt part of the gang.

Jack offered him some rum, and Harry had a sip of it. He wouldn't call it his favourite drink, but it wasn't bad. He refused any more and stuck with water, saying he didn't particularly want to get drunk (Jack raised his eyebrows and muttered "Ah well, more for me!"). Harry grinned at Jack's antics. Jack flirted with many a woman, and received too many slaps from them to count. He constantly had a bottle of rum in his hand, and with each rejection, his none-to-steady-to-start-with swagger got even more unsteady. However, Harry knew how Jack was, and Harry knew that Jack's brain was still working fine, planning ahead and wondering which girl would be his next target.

Loud music was blaring from people playing a guitar, an accordion and a fiddle in the corner. Harry tapped his foot in tune with the music. He'd been asked to dance a few times, and had for a few minutes, until his feet ached and the girl moved on to the next man.

Harry was sipping his water calmly, enjoying himself and wondering whether to go over to a rather pretty girl about his age on the other side of a tavern and chat her up. She had short brown hair and stunning blue eyes, and was apparently there with another crew that had stopped in Tortuga for the night too. Harry had seen her looking over at him every so often, and knew that she had seen her looking back. She looked over at him again and Harry winked at her.

Then, suddenly, Harry got a bad feeling, and it had nothing to do with the none-too-clean water he was drinking. It was intuition, and it was telling him that something was wrong. Goosebumps rose on his arms and he shivered. Harry looked up for Jack and saw him being slapped by (yet another) woman. Harry caught his eye and jerked his head, saying silently, 'Come here a minute'.

Jack meandered over and sat down next to Harry. "What's wrong?" he asked in a slightly slurred voice.

"I'm not sure," replied Harry. Jack raised an eyebrow. "I've just got a really bad feeling, and I don't know why. Something's going to happen, and it won't be good. I think we should head back to the ship soon."

Jack looked out the window. It was very dark, and must have been well after midnight. They needed to get back before sunrise anyway, to prepare for the journey, and a little sleep wouldn't go amiss either.

"Alright," said Jack, "it's about time to be going anyway, much as I want to stay." He winked at a girl at the bar, who glared back. "Let's go round up the crew."

Harry finished his water, got up and nodded to the girl on the other side of the room, who looked sorry to see him leave. He saw that the crew were mostly ready, and Jack nodded to him, so he headed out into the night.

The cool air was a refreshing change from the hot, rather smelly tavern, and Harry breathed deep as he walked back to the port, following Jack. However, it did nothing to quell the gut feeling he had, that something bad was going to happen.

It did. As the crew turned a corner, all hell broke loose. Out of the shadows, men in official-looking uniforms sprang, wielding swords. The crew were instantly defensive, but it was too late. Many had had too much to drink, and hadn't brought their swords. A few pulled out daggers and guns, but they were few and far between. The rest had to rely on themselves and the darkness.

Jack, of course, was the exception to the rule. He always carried around his sword and pistol. Any trace of drunkenness gone, he fought against their attackers.

Harry, of course, carried nothing. His sword was on the ship and he didn't own a dagger or a pistol. He ducked and weaved, throwing the odd punch when he could. It was chaos. He realised that the attackers had chosen their place carefully – there were few houses nearby to hear any noise, only closed businesses and the odd tavern, further away, covered any noise that may awaken anyone who happened to be in the nearby buildings.

The fight was quick, but brutal. The crew were outnumbered by well-trained men, none of whom were even slightly tipsy. Harry could see everyone, despite the darkness, fighting as hard as they could. He dodged a tall man and punched him in the ribs, hard. He was tiring. Then his head was in agony and everything went black.

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Jack was rather surprised when suddenly the other side stopped fighting. They sheathed their swords and disappeared back into the night.

"That was… interesting," he said. He looked around. There was quite a lot of blood, but it was from mostly minor injuries, and no-one was dead, or even seriously injured.

It was at that moment that he noticed Harry was missing.

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Harry woke up. His head hurt like hell and he kept his eyes closed. He was still tired, but whatever he was sleeping on wasn't particularly comfortable, and it only seemed to be making that worse. Still, he kept his eyes closed. He felt the familiar rocking of the boat and wondered why Jack hadn't woken him and moved him back to his bed.

Jack!

Suddenly the previous night's events came rushing back to him in a torrent of memories. The pub. The loud music. The pretty girl. The feeling that something bad was going to happen. Then they'd left. The soldiers or officers or whatever they were fighting. His headache.

Harry opened his eyes and sat up. His head protested vigorously. He raised a hand and felt the back of his head. It was matted with blood, but it had dried and the wound mustn't have been too bad, because it had stopped bleeding and he could still think clearly.

He quickly surveyed his surroundings. Wherever he was, it most certainly wasn't the Pearl. Harry got up and went to the only door. It was locked – big surprise there. Harry assumed that he'd been taken or arrested or whatnot by the people last night. He wandered over to the wall opposite the door and looked out through a small hole. There was no land in sight. Oh dear.

Harry spun round (his head gave another very painful throb) as he heard movement outside his door. It opened with a loud creak and several men came in. Now, in the light, Harry could make out the uniforms of the East India Trading Company.

One figure in particular stood out. He had an air of authority about him, and Harry knew that this was the captain. He had a cruel mouth, sharp eyes that saw more than they were meant to and long black hair that was tied back. Harry was briefly reminded of his old potions professor, who he hadn't thought about in over a year now. However, all thoughts of potions left his head after the captain started talking.

"And you would be Sparrow's son, I imagine? Yes, you have been seen with him and we have heard rumours. And then you were found with him last night. I sent my men to capture you, and alive." He paused. "I most likely ought to have told them to bring in Sparrow too, but I doubt they would have taken him as easily. Still," he surveyed Harry as though he was an annoying insect that needed squashing, "you are quite a catch…"

Harry said nothing, but he scowled viciously.

The captain then continued, "There is quite a large bounty out for your head, you know. Dead or alive. Impressive, really, considering know-one actually knows who you are or where you came from." He looked Harry up and down, taking in every aspect of his appearance. "But maybe that's why there is such a large reward. Mind you, it's not nearly as big as your father's, but then, why would it be? He's been around for years and has escaped out from under our noses many times. You, on the other hand, appeared out of nowhere a few months ago. All our information on you was based on unconfirmed sightings. Or, at least, it was until we picked up a rather dishevelled bunch of soldiers from an island several days ago. They gave us more information on you, enough to prove that not only do you exist, but are indeed a pirate, and a murderer."

Harry still made no reply, but he put his scowl up a notch.

"Oh, how rude of me. I haven't introduced myself – I am Captain Willis of the East India Trading Company." He paused, as if expecting Harry to have recognised the name. Harry didn't, so didn't move. "Well, I have introduced myself. It is only polite that you return the favour…" He looked at Harry. "I know you are a Sparrow, but it is more than that which concerns me. Your first name, the name of your mother, where she was from…"

Harry, understandably, did not want to reveal anything about himself to this person and his back-up who were still lurking by the door. He remained silent.

Willis didn't appear at all annoyed by his silence. In fact, he smiled. "I didn't think you'd talk. I knew you'd be smarter than that, what with Sparrow around you, and he's no idiot." His smile widened. "Unfortunately for you, however, you have been silent and not protested your innocence. Not that that would have been believed, of course, but by maintaining your silence you have ensured that any claims of innocence you may make in the future will most certainly not be believed by anyone with more than half a brain. Since you have been seen on a pirate ship, seen in the company of pirates and have been witnessed committing murder of a captain of the Royal Navy, you are, undoubtedly, a pirate yourself. Congratulations, Master Sparrow. You have just sentenced yourself to a hanging."

Harry still didn't move, didn't say anything, but his insides were churning. How was he going to get out of this one? His wand was in his boot, but what could he do? He was in the middle of the ocean, and had no idea where they were sailing. If he somehow managed to fight his way out, he would still be stranded in the middle of nowhere on a ship he couldn't crew by himself. Anyway, the ship was, most likely, crawling with guards. He only had his wand, they were all fully armed. Jack probably didn't know where he was at. He was _so _screwed. But there was a way out of this. He just had to find it.

Willis was smiling as though he had just crushed that annoying insect. It was a feral smile, and Harry tried his best to keep his face emotionless, as, if truth be told, it scared him. "We will proceed to the East India Trading company headquarters immediately. There, you will be questioned further on the whereabouts of your partners-in-crime. Then, you shall be handed over to the soldiers in Port Royal. Your fate will rest in the hands of Commodore Gillette. He has very little sympathy for pirates such as yourself, so a hanging for you is unavoidable. If all goes well, your last day will be Tuesday."

Dying on his thirteenth birthday. Great.

"Men, take him to the brig."

Harry was promptly bundled out of the room and down some stairs. The men were big, and held him tight. What was the point in that, Harry wondered. He was (nearly!) thirteen. There was at least five of them and only one of him. He wasn't going to be overpowering them anytime soon. And even if he did manage to get rid of them, what exactly would he do then? He'd be killed. He remembered the stock of Aqua De Vida that stayed in Jack's cabin. He hadn't had a drink for months now, and he was regretting that now. He doubted that his last drink would still be working right, and he didn't think it would be enough to save him from death now.

Harry was shaken out of his musings as they arrived at what was obviously the brig. They didn't seem to be that bad, but they were still not the nicest place. At least there wasn't water everywhere. The men shoved him into a cell and locked it with a big copper key, which they took back upstairs with them. There went any hope of trying to summon the key. Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten far anyway, but it would have given him something to do other than sit on the floor and dwell on his capture.

He sat down in the corner furthest from the cell door, and rested his head on folded arms. He reached down one boot and felt his wand. What could he do? Then he remembered something else in his boot, something long-forgotten, that he always kept on him, just in case. Harry smirked. These people were going to learn someday never to mess with a Sparrow.

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Jack was frantic. He'd searched everywhere for any sign of Harry or those men – all of Tortuga and the surrounding area. He hadn't actually thought that he'd find him, though. They most likely had taken Harry onto a ship and set sail to God knows where.

So he was now back on his ship, sailing away as fast as he could from Tortuga, towards Port Royal. Jack knew he wouldn't be able to get particularly close, and he could hardly go there anyway, but he'd send some of the crew ashore – some that wouldn't necessarily be recognised as pirates.

It was now Sunday afternoon. They'd been at sea for several hours now. They should reach Port Royal late on Tuesday, maybe earlier if the wind was good. Hopefully, the men hadn't been from the Navy, otherwise they would get Harry to Port Royal early on Monday, and then he would be very well-guarded. No-one knew what he was capable of. Hell, Jack himself didn't know all that Harry was capable of.

Jack didn't know exactly how, or when, he'd started caring so much about the kid. But somehow, sometime during the past few months, he really had come to view Harry as the son he'd never had. Or, at least, the son he might've had but didn't know about.

Jack stalked around the ship, worried sick. If Harry was in Port Royal for long before he reached there, he'd be hanged. Jack knew that for certain. Harry hadn't had a drink of Aqua De Vida in a long time, and Jack honestly wasn't sure if it had been enough. They wouldn't take any pity on him simply because he was young. In their eyes, he was a pirate, and all pirates deserved to swing.

Closing his eyes, Jack forced himself to calm down. Harry was a smart kid. He was a good fighter. He had magic. Telling himself these things didn't help in the slightest. There was nothing he could do now other than head for Port Royal as fast as they could.

Jack could only hope that they wouldn't be too late.

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And here's another one done and dusted. This one was easy enough- mostly because it was already written and I just had to rewrite it slightly to fit in with AWE. And luckily, that wasn't too hard.

I'm afraid I have no idea when the next one will be up though, as I hadn't started it before I saw the film, and have to just straight write, not rewrite, it. But hopefully it'll be soon!

'Til next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own much, and I certainly don't own Harry Potter or POTC. I wish I did, though….

Ah, thank you all for the reviews! They really make me smile- all of them!

Some questions have been asked, and I'll answer the ones I can, that don't give anything away!

So, Yes, Will and Elizabeth will appear sometime- not together, though! I'm currently undecided on Captain Teague as of yet- I constructed a story without him, but I might be able to fit him in somewhere.

Time? Well, that's a little more complicated. I'm following the theory that time is relative, that is, the amount of time that passes in Jack and Harry's era has no bearing on the amount of time that passes in the era Harry left. Does that make sense? Probably not! What I'm trying to say is, it doesn't matter if Harry stays in the 1700s five years or fifty, the amount of time that passes with Ron and Hermione could be totally different. With my current plan, Harry will be quite a bit older than his best friends when he goes back, savvy? (Which answers the question on whether he goes back!) (That also means it won't be particularly soon)

And about the prophecy. That makes it all even more complicated. But, my theory is, because Voldemort does not actually exist in Harry's time, Harry can die. It's the same with Voldemort in Ron and Hermione's time- since Harry does not actually exist there, he could be killed by anyone with enough power. If it's possible to kill something like Spirit-Voldy-who-isn't-really-alive-anywho.

About the length of the chapters- I do try and make them as long as I can, but most of the time I just reach a good stopping point and decide to let go there. I'll try to make them slightly longer, but no promises!

If you have any other questions, please ask them in a review, and I'll try and answer them (providing I wouldn't be giving anything away!)

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Harry looked at the flask he held in his hand. It was very small, and could at the most hold only two or three mouthfuls of liquid, but that was all Harry needed. It had been hidden below the sole of his boot.

He unplugged the stopper and gulped down the water within. He felt suddenly happy, as though he was not in fact trapped on a ship, due to be executed in less than three days. He grinned, and started humming. _Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…_

The light outside slowly faded with Harry's mood. By the time he was simply contented, it was pitch back, around midnight, by Harry's reckoning. He stared out through the hole in the wood again. This time, he could just make out lights in the distance. Port Royal. They would reach there around tomorrow afternoon, Harry estimated. Then he had about twenty-four hours after that until the hanging.

Harry lay back down in the corner. He wasn't worried. Not really. He smiled, and tried to get some sleep.

Harry slept clean through until around noon the next day. He only woke when the noise around him suddenly increased. He got up and looked out. They were in Port Royal. They had travelled faster than Harry had imagined they would. He heard a noise behind him and spun round to see Captain Willis and some of his guards coming down the stairs into the brig. He unlocked the door and the guards came in. Harry let them tie his hands behind his back, and he was led up and out of the ship.

As Harry was led through the town, he felt very conscious of people staring. He couldn't blame them, really. He'd have stared too. It was bound to be an odd sight: a pompous captain strolling ahead, and five guards surrounding one prisoner, who was still only a kid.

Harry was led up to the fort, which stood high, overlooking the sea. He eventually ended up locked in a cell there. It was the same cell, Harry realised, that he had first appeared in, over a year ago. His hands were untied and the door locked. Several guards stood outside it, just in case he attempted to escape.

Harry went over to the bed and laid down on it, resting his head on his arms. The bed was exceptionally uncomfortable. There were some other prisoners next door. They'd been interested in him when he'd first arrived - after all, a kid locked up AND guarded was rather unusual – but then had retired back to calling for the dog. Harry didn't feel the need to point out that, if the dog came over, his guards were hardly going to just let them escape.

Harry could feel his wand in his boot digging into his ankle reassuringly. It felt good to have some kind of a weapon on him, as everything else was back on the ship.

Harry heard footsteps approaching and he turned to look at the stairs. Captain Willis appeared, followed by an important-looking man, who was wearing the red coat of the Navy. The guards stood to attention, and at a nod from the redcoat, one unlocked Harry's cell door and pulled him off his bed and out. Another tied his wrists behind his back again. The men then turned and led Harry out of the prison.

They went up several flights of stairs and down endless corridors, until they reached a rather big office with a fire crackling a map being drawn on one wall. It was very nearly completed. Harry's wrists were untied and he was shoved down onto a chair. The redcoat sat down on another (rather grander) one, Willis stood behind him and the guards hovered somewhere in the background, looking threatening.

The redcoat leaned forward in the chair, staring at Harry. "I am Commodore Gillette," he said. "You are Sparrow's son. There is, sorry, _was _a rather significant bounty out for you. Of course, Captain Willis has rightfully claimed it." He paused, still staring at Harry, and Harry was suddenly very afraid. He saw something in Gillette's eyes and didn't like it. Harry glared at him, and bit his tongue to make sure no words slipped out.

Gillette smiled, and Harry didn't like that either. It reminded him of Dudley just before he announced a game of Harry-hunting in front of his gang.

"Now," he said. "The reason you are in my office instead of your cell downstairs is that I have an offer for you. You should consider it, as it really is a matter of life and death. I want information – about your father, Jack Sparrow. You know his movements, where he will be and the like. You give us this information, Master Sparrow, and I shall see that you do not hang tomorrow. You will, of course, be our prisoner for a month or two, but we will then set you free. You will be a free man, if you decide to give us what we want. If you do not choose this option, your execution tomorrow will go ahead as planned. Indeed, the gallows are being set up as we speak."

Harry glared at him. He obviously wasn't going to take Gillette up on his offer. Harry knew he wasn't going to die, but he would rather face death any day than betray Jack- his _dad._

"I know this is not a decision that should be rushed," Gillette continued. "But unfortunately, you will have to decide quickly. I do not have much time." He paused, and looked at Harry expectantly. "Well?"

Harry sat up straight in his chair and said clearly, "Not a hope in hell."

Gillette sat back and raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said, "I did not think you would take me up on that. However, you are making a mistake. It is a very generous offer, after all. You are a pirate; many would not even offer you a way out. I, however, am a merciful man."

Harry stared into Gillette's eyes. He didn't see mercy there; he saw hatred and cruelty. Snape was nothing compared to this guy.

Gillette stood up and moved over to the fire, staring into the flames. Harry noticed for the first time, a long metal pole with a wooden handle emerging from the fire. Gillette grasped it and picked it up. Harry saw a white-hot glowing P at the end, and went pale. He had seen the mark on Jack's arm before, and now was looking at the instrument that caused it.

Gillette saw the expression on his face and laughed. "Hold him," he said.

Instantly the guards in the background reappeared and grabbed Harry. One held him down in the chair, another held his left arm to his side, and a third grabbed his right arm, pushed up the sleeve and held it out. Harry tried to struggle against them, but they were too strong.

Gillette raised the branding iron. "You have made your choice," he said coldly, and brought the iron down hard on Harry's arm.

Harry had never felt pain like it. Even with the Aqua de Vida shielding him from some of it, the agony was terrible. He screamed, and the glass in the windows shattered. At that, Gillette lifted the iron off his arm and looked around at them, frowning.

"What just happened?" he asked.

Harry, however, didn't hear him talk. He was too busy clutching his arm. He looked at it and saw that the skin was crimson and the pain, although less now that the iron had been lifted off, was still awful.

Gillette turned to the guards. "Take Sparrow back to his cell. The execution will take place at ten O'clock tomorrow morning. Have him ready to leave at half past nine, sharp. I shall make sure that this execution will be well-publicised. Keep him guarded at all times. If he escapes, there will be hell to pay."

As Harry had his wrists tied again (the rope just missing the brand, thank heavens) and was dragged out, he saw Gillette sweep back to the window and examine the shards of glass.

Harry was led back to his cell and shoved in again. He raised his arm and inspected his arm. It was still burning, and the cooler air in the cell was only making it feel worse. He used his other hand to rip off part of his sleeve and tied it around the wound. It was all he could to for the moment, but he'd have to let Jack see it as soon as possible. He'd know what to do.

Harry lay down on the bed, shifting around to find the most comfortable position. He looked out the window. From his position, all he could see was the sky and a little bit of the sea. He estimated it was still only about one or two O'clock. That meant nearly twenty-one hours until the execution tomorrow. He wouldn't die- he knew that much, but what was he going to do? He had no idea what would happen to him, or exactly how he'd react to being hanged. He decided to just play it by ear. It was something Jack did remarkably often and he'd managed to survive so far.

Harry thought back to his conversation with Gillette. Had he really managed to shatter the windows? He'd only done magic like that when he was younger, with the Dursleys. He remembered talking to the snake at the zoo, managing to make the glass disappear and reappear.

Was it possible to do magic without his wand? Well, obviously, as he'd just done it. But could he learn to control it somehow? It would be very useful if he was ever stuck without his wand. And maybe, if he could do that, he wouldn't need to use the words for the spells. He didn't know very many, after all.

What did he know? Harry frowned. He knew how to make things fly. He could transfigure very small objects and shoot sparks out of the end of his wand. He could unlock doors, which was useful. Well, unless there were several guards outside it, as there was now. What else could he do? He remembered his other lessons: potions and herbology, astronomy and history of magic. There weren't much use. Defence against the dark arts? Professor Quirrell hadn't taught them anything worth knowing, and most certainly not any spells.

Harry thought. He had learned a few things out of his book – how to summon things, and he had just begun learning how to make himself invisible. He had learnt a spell that made a light come out of the end of his wand, and one that, according to the picture, would knock someone out. He hadn't actually practiced that one yet, though, as he hadn't wanted to risk doing someone some serious damage. He had learnt the word and the wand movement, though.

Just sitting thinking about it, Harry realised how little he really did know. He hadn't had all that much time to study his book over the past year – working on a pirate ship would do that. Often he went to bed too exhausted to do anything but sleep. If he could learn, if it was possible, to control his magic without his wand, that would be brilliant, and amazingly useful.

Harry closed his eyes. He wanted to try it now, but he knew that wasn't possible – not with the guards outside, watching his every move. He would just have to wait until he was back on his ship with Jack, until he had some time alone in his cabin to try.

Harry shifted in the bed again, trying to find a more comfortable position, which was quite difficult as he couldn't put any pressure on his right arm, and the bed was none too comfortable anyway. He tried to sleep, but it was not easy, considering he'd slept for a while on the crossing here and the pain in his arm was keeping him alert.

He lay face down and tried to think about anything other than his execution tomorrow. Anything other than that. Anything at all. It wasn't working.

He knew he wouldn't die, at least. He had that to reassure himself with. However, not dying means that there would most likely be lots more pain involved. And that was not the slightest bit reassuring.

24 hours, he thought. 24 hours, and I'll be out of here, gone. Harry didn't know what he was going to do after the execution, but he'd be damned if he let them arrest him again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack Sparrow stood on the deck of his ship, gazing at his compass. He had been following it faithfully for over a day now. Since Harry had gone, Jack hadn't slept a wink or eaten or drunk anything. The crew were worried about him.

One approached him cautiously. "Captain?"

Jack didn't turn around. "Aye?"

"We, that is, the crew, we thinks that you should take a break. Ye've been up 'ere for ages. Ye won't do yer son much good if we find him an' ye collapse in the middle of the fight, just because ye haven't been eatin' or sleepin'," said the man who had been singled out of the crew, called Wally by his friends.

"No." said Jack shortly. He wasn't about to go, when any second something could happen.

Wally nearly gave up, but a glance back at the rest of the crew watching the interaction stopped him.

"Seriously, captain. Ye need to take a break. 'S not good for you, just standin' and starin'. I'll keep watch for ye, if ye like. You go get somethin' to eat and go to sleep for a bit, and if anythin' happens, if anythin' appears on that horizon, I'll send for ye and ye can be back up 'ere in seconds."

He gently pried Jack's hands from the wheel and pushed him towards his cabin. "There's some food for ye in yer cabin," he said, "an' some fresh water. Then take a nap, and ye'll be back up 'ere in no time, and ye'll be able to watch better."

Jack knew that Wally was right, but he didn't want to go.

"Come on now, Captain," said Wally again, "Ye know that Harry wouldn't want ye wastin' away like this. He'd want you to eat an' sleep, like the rest of us."

Jack stared at Wally, and gave in. "Alrigh'," he said, "But if you see anythin', anythin' at all, come get me."

He strode away to his cabin, his walk even shakier than usual.

Wally took the wheel. Jack Sparrow left him in charge of steering and finding Harry when he couldn't and he was determined to do this duty as best he could.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sirius Black sat in his cell, staring out of the tiny, barred window set high in the wall. All he could see out of it was the blue sky, but that was a view to be cherished, as he had realised long ago. He had been very lucky to get a cell with a window at all, really. Not like the poor guy across from him. Sirius could hear him sometimes, moaning and wailing about pineapples. The man was totally bonkers, and although Sirius felt very sorry for him, he was relieved that it wasn't himself who had been reduced to insanity and shouting about various fruits in the middle of the night.

By Sirius's estimate, he'd been in here for over ten years now. Of course, the only thing he'd had to judge by were the minister's twice-yearly visits and the odd newspaper that he was given.

The minister was late, this year. Of course, it was a new minister. The last visit had been his first one, and Sirius had enjoyed seeing the effects of the dementors on the little fellow. Then Sirius had had a brief conversation with him, and probably freaked the man out even more, because he was still somehow sane.

Sirius wondered if the minister would give him a newspaper this time. He had the last time, and Sirius had spent hours poring over it, because it featured several pages on "Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts!". There had been quite a few photos of his godson, and Sirius was amazed at how much Harry had looked like James. He kept the paper neatly folded under his bed, and still looked at it sometimes, when he thought that he might be going insane. It helped, by giving him something to think about other than James' and Lily's deaths.

Sirius heard a commotion at the other end of the corridor that his cell was on. It was getting louder, and he could make out voices.

"-surely the work of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore!-"

"- yes, but-"

"-need to question… whereabouts…"

"…Harry Potter…"

Sirius caught Harry's name and listened in harder. Had something happened Harry? The conversation was growing louder as the people approached. Dumbledore was there, and Sirius thought he recognised the minister's voice.

"Albus, we need to question him! He's the most important Death Eater we have! Well, the most important coherent one, at any rate! The rest have gone totally crazy."

"I appreciate that, Cornelius, but he has been incarcerated here for years. There is no chance that he will know anything, and even if he does, getting it out of him will be near impossible."

"That is why we have veritaserum! He will tell us all he knows, and if he doesn't know anything, we will have at least tried! However, we cannot rule out the possibility that he is privy to other Death Eater hideouts where they may be keeping the boy!"

Sirius's heart felt like it stopped. Harry was missing, kidnapped by Death Eaters? They were undoubtedly coming to question him, now. He went back to listening, to see if he could pick up any more information. The voices were much louder now, and Sirius knew they mustn't be far from his cell.

"-wasn't he interrogated about these things during his trial?"

"No, he wasn't actually given a trial. We didn't need one- we were busy rounding up all other death eaters, the evidence was overwhelming against him, there simply wasn't any point!"

"Nevertheless, it is a basic human right to be given a trial, Cornelius. One cannot just throw people into Azkaban."

"I know that, Albus, but I had no say in it. It was Barty Crouch, remember? He was up in arms against all of the followers of you-know-know. Authorised the use of the unforgivables and all that. You know that. Hardly anyone was given a trial – save for his son, of course. Poor man. Lost his wife and son in such a short time…."

The conversation had stopped outside Sirius' cell. He just had time to get away from the door before it creaked open. Outside were Albus Dumbledore, Minister Fudge and at least twelve Aurors. Two of them came in and hauled Sirius to his feet.

Sirius knew he looked a mess. They had water to wash once a week, but he couldn't do anything with his hair, which was all matted and tangled, or his beard that had grown, which was the same. His prison robes were grimy, changed once a week too.

The conversation that Dumbledore and the minister had been having had ground to a halt in his presence. Sirius didn't mind much for some reason.

Sirius was led out of the cell in silence to be interrogated.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

And that is the end of another chapter. We've just seen what's happening in the time Harry left – I thought that I'd stick that in!

The next chapter will be up ASAP!

Please review!

'Til next time!


	9. Chapter 9

Well, here's chapter nine. This is the longest fanfics I've ever written, and I don't think we're even near halfway yet!

…Actually, I have no idea how many chapters there are going to be overall. I know what's going to happen, though…

A huge thank-you to all my reviewers!

EDIT: Ok guys, I made a HUGE booboo! I accidentally put C10 up instead of C9! This is the replacement... I am REALLY, REALLY, sorry!

Oh, and I'll be going on holidays for a week now, so don't expect any more updates...

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It seemed to take forever, but eventually Harry dozed off.

He was woken the next morning by his cell door opening. Harry looked up and saw his guards entering. They grabbed him and chained his wrists.

It was time.

Harry was led out of the cell and through endless corridors out into the sun. He blinked, his eyes unused to the brightness after hours in his dark cell.

There was a rather large crowd already. Did all these people turn up just to see someone die?

He was led through the crowd, which parted ahead of them and gave a wide berth. Harry wondered if it was because of him or his guards. He actually rather hoped it was him.

Then Harry saw it up ahead. The noose. What was going to happen suddenly seemed frighteningly real, and Harry didn't much like the idea of standing up there with the executioner and having the entire town watch him die. He gulped.

He followed his guards up to the gallows. Harry knew he must be as pale as a sheet, despite his tan. He tried to keep confident. He wasn't going to die. He was going to escape. Harry chanted those statements inside his head and tried to calm down. It would all be over soon.

Harry was pushed up the steps to the noose. The executioner grabbed his shoulder and dragged him the rest of the steps. The guards stayed at the bottom. Harry gave them a little wave, which was difficult with tied hands. They ignored him and spread out around the gallows, just to make sure he didn't escape. Harry thought that Gillette and Willis might be going slightly overboard – after all, he was a rather scrawny thirteen year old!

Harry remembered suddenly that today was his birthday. He looked at the executioner, with his covered face. Some birthday this was turning out to be!

The executioner positioned Harry under the noose. He was too short for it to reach properly. Harry shook his head slightly. Who set this thing up? Would it have been too hard just to lengthen the rope?

A crate was slammed down in front of Harry, and the executioner lifted Harry none-too-gently onto it. It was the perfect height- the noose was now staring Harry in the face.Harry in the face.

Another man climbed the steps up to the platform. He unrolled a scroll of parchment and, in a loud clear voice, began:

"We are gathered to witness the death of a pirate, on this day, the thirty-first of July, in the year of 1733. This pirate, son of infamous pirate Jack Sparrow-"

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow!" muttered Harry

"- has committed crimes which are listed henceforth. Master Sparrow, let it be known that you have committed these crimes: murder of agents of the Royal Navy, many known instances of piracy, consorting with known pirates, knowingly concealing vital information, aiding and abetting a pirate, and general lawlessness."

"That all?" mumbled Harry sarcastically

"For these crimes, you have been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul." With that, he re-scrolled his scroll and hurriedly retreated down into the crowd.

For the first time, Harry noticed a drum roll. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it before now. Probably something to do with the fact he was rather preoccupied with his upcoming death.

The executioner positioned the rope around Harry's neck and slowly walked back to the lever at the side. Or, at least, Harry thought he was walking slowly. Maybe he was just seeing everything in slow-motion. As he reached it, he reached out, grasped the end and pulled.

The wooden floor disappeared from under Harry's feet, and he fell. The rope around his neck pulled taut. He heard a sickening _crack_, and then the world went black.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

On his ship, Jack suddenly got a very bad feeling. Goosebumps rose on his arms and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. And in the middle of the Caribbean, that was odd, to say the least.

Something had happened to Harry. Jack glared at the horizon, and willed the ship to go faster. Was he too late?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sirius was taken to an interrogation room not far from his cell. He was sat down in a chair with chains around the back, armrests and legs. No sooner was he down than they began moving, and wrapped themselves around him. Sirius didn't protest- anything was better than being trapped in his cell, and he was grateful for the break in the monotony.

Dumbledore and Fudge sat opposite him, and the aurors were standing about the room too- some flanking him, some by Dumbledore and Fudge, and some by the door. The auror to his left pulled out a small vial of a colourless liquid and Sirius recognised it as Veritaserum. He obediently opened his mouth and the auror spilled three drops onto his tongue. The interrogation began.

"What is your full name?" asked Fudge

"Sirius Orion Black," said Sirius' mouth, apparently without any input from his brain whatsoever.

"Do you know of any death eater hideouts that may still be in use?"

"No."

Fudge swore.

"Do you know of any death eater hideouts at all?" he asked.

"No."

"What?" exploded Fudge. "You were a Death Eater, were you not? You betrayed the Potters! How do you not know of ANY hideouts?"

"I was never a Death Eater," said Sirius' mouth calmly. Sirius' head, however, was anything but calm. Wild hope blossomed throughout him for the first time in over ten years. They were finally going to find out the truth! He was going to be set free!

There was silence in the cell for a full fifteen seconds.

Then the aurors started shouting. Fudge stood up and started yelling too. The chaos only stopped when Dumbledore released several fireworks from his wand. The aurors looked ashamed of themselves and went back to their positions, some still muttering. Fudge collapsed back into his chair. Dumbledore took one look at him and decided to continue the questioning himself.

"Have you ever, at any point in time, joined or considered joining Voldemort?"

Fudge and the aurors flinched, but Sirius and Dumbledore did not.

"No, never."

Dumbledore smiled, and then frowned.

"Were you the secret-keeper for the Potters?"

"No. I persuaded Lily and James to change it at the last minute. The secret-keeper was Peter Pettigrew. We didn't tell anyone, not even Remus. It was to be the perfect ruse. Voldemort would come after me, thinking I was the secret-keeper. Peter would simply lie low for a while."

"Peter Pettigrew betrayed Lily and James?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill him on the morning of November first?"

"No. I intended to. I had him cornered, but he started shouting. He accused me of betraying Lily and James. He drew his wand before me, and cut off his finger. The then blew up the street, transformed into his animagus form and escaped. I was blamed."

"Peter Pettigrew is an animagus?!"

"Yes. He's a rat. He escaped down a drainpipe."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, smiling. Fudge had listened to the tale with disbelief. Was the Veritaserum working? Yes, it was, because he had used it on another prisoner not that long ago. Black had been in Azkaban for the past ten years, he couldn't possibly have had the strength to block the effects of it.

Fudge was, for the second time ever, totally and utterly shocked speechless. In the silent room, he took a few seconds to gather his wits again.

"Well!" he said, trying to smile, "That certainly is a shock, isn't it?"

_Well duh_, said Sirius' mind. "Yes," said his mouth.

Fudge looked at him. "Oh, yes! Yes! Still under the effects of Veritaserum, aren't you? Parker! Fetch this man the antidote, will you? Good, good!" Fudge tittered.

Parker returned with the antidote after a few seconds and administered it silently. Sirius blinked. He could control his mouth again. He looked up at the minister and Dumbledore.

"Now that we're all nicely reacquainted, would someone please untie me?"

"Oh, yes, yes, sorry, Mr Black!" said Fudge, very quickly. He hurried around the table, raised his wand and tapped it against the chains binding Sirius. He then helped Sirius up, and started apologising.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for what the ministry has put you through, Mr Black! I mean, no trial! How reprehensible! Oh, if only I was in charge back then, but alas, I was not. However, please accept my most sincere apologies! I shall arrange to have compensation awarded to you, my good man. And we'll find you a place to stay-"

Sirius stopped him with a wave of his hand. He addressed both Fudge and Dumbledore. "I'll be fine. What's happened Harry?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elizabeth Turner wove through the crowd. Her son was at the manor- she'd assigned a maid to look after him while she went out. She'd heard a rumour last night about what was going to happen today, and she wanted to check it out.

She had been out doing her shopping yesterday with young William, when she'd heard other women gossiping. Normally she wouldn't pay any attention to that sort of thing, but a phrase had jumped out at her.

"...Sparrow's son..."

She'd slowed down to catch what they were saying. The other women had noticed her at that point, and smiled at doted over her son. She'd known them, of course- they had been living in Port Royal as long as she had, even after her disappearance for a while a few years ago. When she'd come back, she'd moved back into her old home and taken over her father's job. It hadn't mattered that she was a known pirate – most of the townsfolk hadn't known anyway, and those that did welcomed her back in place of Cutler Beckett- even the rest of the Navy. The power of the East India trading company was much diminished now anyway, and she didn't have anything to worry about from them.

She'd stopped and chatted with the women, and once they'd finished admiring little Will, she asked them about 'Sparrow's son'.

"Oh yes!" One of them had said excitedly, "We just heard! You remember Jack Sparrow, you must, he threatened you once, didn't he? Well, his son has just been arrested! They caught him on some other island somewhere, the East India trading company did, and brought him back here! He's a pirate too, you know. They say he was caught with Jack Sparrow himself, but they couldn't bring both of them in!"

At this point, Will had started fidgeting and whining. Elizabeth had shushed him, and asked them, "I didn't know he even had a son!"

"No-one did, that's the point! There were rumours, you know, that there'd been someone sailing with him recently, youngish and looked a lot like him, but nobody really knew anything 'til today!"

"What's going to happen to him?" Elizabeth had asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" another woman had said, "They're going to hang him! Good riddance to him, I say, and same to all pirates! The execution's going to be at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, up at the fort, same place as usual. We're going to go and see. After all, ain't often you see a caught Sparrow!" She'd laughed.

By then Will had started fussing even more, and she'd had to go.

Elizabeth hoped that he'd be alright with the maid. Emily was good with him, but Elizabeth thought that the four-year-old was coming down with something. He'd been acting up a lot lately, and never seemed to be in good form.

And so here she was, at the Fort. She preferred to mix with the crowd today, rather than stand up at the top. She didn't want to have as much notice drawn to her. The crowd was very thick – evidently everyone had turned up to see a Sparrow hang.

She eventually managed to get relatively close to the gallows. She was torn- she couldn't let Jack's child just die! She knew that Jack wouldn't do that to her or to either her husband or her son. But she knew, full well, that she couldn't save him. She'd entertained some ideas on her way here, but now that she'd arrived, she knew it was impossible. Sparrow Junior was already up on the gallows- and guards surrounded the platform. Elizabeth looked at it, and, no matter how much she wished differently, there was just no possible way!

She watched as another man climbed up to read the charges. She didn't want to listen, but her ears tuned in anyway.

"...son of infamous Pirate Jack Sparrow..."

She looked the boy, and nearly smiled despite herself when he muttered "_Captain _Jack Sparrow!"

"...murder of agents of the Royal Navy..."

Elizabeth studied him. He didn't look especially capable of murder. Mind you, neither did she, so she wasn't really one to talk!

Elizabeth took in his appearance- his simple clothes that were a bit too big, his long black hair that was tied back and his absolutely stunning green eyes. She focused on his right wrist, and saw the makeshift bandage that was wound around it. Her eyes widened slightly- she'd seen the mark on Jack's wrist, but they couldn't have done the same to his son, could they? He wasn't even that old!

"...God have mercy upon your soul."

The little man practically ran from the platform. Elizabeth frowned. Why was he so scared of him? Was it simply because he was a Sparrow?

Elizabeth never took her eyes off Sparrow as the executioner pulled a lever and the trapdoor opened.

She saw him fall, and heard the sickening _crack_. That was his neck breaking, she knew. She felt sick- she had just stood and watched as the son of a friend died!

She watched soldiers remove the body as the crowd dispersed. She wouldn't let Jack's son be strung up by the port, like all the other pirates captured. She owed that, at least, to Jack. She followed the soldiers from a distance. She knew what she had to do.

She followed them through the fort, trying her best to keep quiet. It wasn't the end of the world if they saw her – after all, she was Governess of Port Royal now that her father was dead, but she didn't want to have awkward questions asked of her. The soldiers had stopped now. She could hear their voices; though not make out when they were saying. She ducked into an alcove until they'd passed again, and then walked silently down to where they'd left the body.

It was a few minutes until she found him, as she checked every room that she passed. He was in a small courtyard, and she saw a gate that led out to the beach. That was good- she wouldn't have to take him back through the fort. Why had they left him here, though? She decided it must just be a holding place, until someone was available to take him away.

The magnitude of what she was going to do suddenly hit her. Where was she going to take him? Her manor? How was she going to get him there without being seen?

However, Elizabeth Turner had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and she knew she'd accomplish it somehow.

She couldn't stay here, though. It was too open, and there were windows in the wall behind her. She would be seen if she stayed here much longer. She walked over to the gate, set in the wall. It was locked from this side, and only designed so that it would be impossible to open from the outside. From the inside, however, it was quite easy to open.

She stuck her head out and was relieved to find it led to a relatively sheltered cove. She knew where she was in relation to the rest of the town, even though she had never been here before, and it was a relief. She turned and went back to Sparrow.

After a quick look about to doubly make sure she was alone, Elizabeth grasped the body under his arms and pulled. He was light, which was good. It took a few minutes, but she eventually got him out onto the sand. She closed the gate behind her.

Elizabeth now realised that she had no idea what to do next. She reached out and touched the boy's face, and then noticed something very unusual.

He was still warm.

She pulled her hand back in shock. That wasn't possible, was it? After all, he was _dead._ Wasn't he?

She tentatively reached out again, and felt his neck. What she felt there shocked her further- it just wasn't possible! She'd seen the boy die- heard his neck break.

So how come she could feel a pulse?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Well, that's another chapter done! This was rather hard to write, I'm afraid, as I've never written a death scene before.

Although, I must say I enjoyed writing Sirius and Fudge! And I've introduced Elizabeth! Will (Senior!) won't be making an appearance yet, though, but rest assured he will show up sooner or later!

Here's hoping I'll have the next chapter up soon, but I want to warn you, I'm going on holidays for a week on the 13th, and I definitely won't be able to write! (The day after I come back is probably out too- Deathly Hallows!) But I'll try and put as many things up as I can, as soon as I can!

'Til next time!


	10. Chapter 10

OK GUYS! I made a very big mistake- I accidentally put this chapter up instead of C9. Luckily, I found it now, before I went on holiday, but if you haven't read the original Chapter 9, please go read it now. It'll explain a lot!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elizabeth jerked her hand back from Sparrow's neck as if it was burnt. She inspected it, but it was just her hand, looking the same as it ever did. She turned her attention back to the apparently-still-alive boy in front of her.

How the hell was he still alive?

Not that Elizabeth wanted him dead, no, that was not it at all. She'd love to be able to talk to Jack's son, but the boy had just defied death!

Thinking about it, though, maybe she ought not to be so surprised. After all, his father had died and come back, hadn't he? As had Barbossa. Indeed, even her own husband was not technically alive, as she kept his heart in a chest hidden under her bed.

But to come back with no help at all?

Elizabeth reached out again and felt the boy's neck. She ran her hand up and down the back of it, and came to an astounding conclusion.

His neck wasn't broken!

The boy moved, and groaned.

Elizabeth snatched her hand back once again, and leaned over him. Hopefully he was waking up.

"Hello?" she said softly, "Are you alright?"

She mentally berated herself for that question. Was he alright? Of course he wasn't alright! He'd just been hanged! He'd died!

His eyes flickered open, revealing a set of the loveliest green eyes she'd ever seen. He must have gotten them from his mother, Elizabeth thought absently. Most of the rest of his features were pure Jack, though.

"Ohhh, my neck!" he groaned, distracting her from her thoughts. He tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, and eventually got there, with much difficulty. He rubbed his neck gingerly.

"Who're you?" he asked Elizabeth suspiciously.

She smiled at him.

"My name is Elizabeth Turner," she said.

She watched as recognition flashed through his eyes, and he smiled back at her.

"So _you're_ Elizabeth! I've heard all about you." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "And, by the way, I'm Harry Sparrow. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise. We should go- someone will notice you're missing sooner or later, and I need to get back to my son. You can come back to my house and I'll get you sorted out. But you can't be seen. Can you walk?"

"I think so," said Harry.

He awkwardly clambered onto his feet and walked around a little bit. His legs felt unsteady, but he'd survive.

"You go on," he said, "and I'll follow you from a bit of a distance. Just... walk slow, alright? And don't turn round to look for me or anything. I'll be behind you."

Elizabeth agreed, and headed off up the beach.

It was a few minutes later that she realised she'd forgotten to ask Harry how he had survived.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry watched Elizabeth go for a few seconds, and then pulled his wand out of his boot. He tapped his head and muttered the incantation to make him invisible. The charm felt odd, like cold eggs running down him, but when he looked down, his feet were indistinguishable from the sand.

He ran after Elizabeth.

She obviously knew where she was going, as she navigated the streets with ease. Harry vaguely recognised some from his last time in Port Royal, when he broke Jack out of jail, but most were totally unfamiliar.

Elizabeth wasn't walking particularly fast, but he hadn't an easy time keeping sight of her, as the streets were rather crowded and he had to avoid bumping into anybody. He was rather glad to see she was doing as he said and not looking around for him. Not only because she wouldn't see him anyway, but also because it would draw attention to them.

She turned down a street which was a bit clearer than the rest and Harry jogged a little to catch up. He hoped her home wasn't far from here- he was already feeling tired, and his neck felt rather sore and very stiff. Dying had taken more out of him than he realised.

It took another few minutes, but she eventually stopped outside some rather large gates. Behind them, Harry could see a rather large house. He saved his astonishment for another time, and pulled his wand out of his boot again. After a quick look around to make sure that nobody else was around, he tapped his head and murmured the spell to make him visible again, and then followed her through the gates.

Elizabeth was waiting on the other side for him. She saw how tired he looked and immediately became concerned. "You look exhausted! You can lie down in the house, we have a few spare beds."

Harry smiled at the idea of sleeping in a really comfortable bed for the first time in a year. He wouldn't give up his life with Jack for the world, but his bed on the ship wasn't exactly the most comfy thing on the planet.

She led him into the house and showed him a bed. Harry smiled at her, thanked her warmly, and collapsed onto it.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack frowned at his compass. He'd just seen it shift a few degrees further north. Harry had moved. That was...odd.

His face broke out into a smile. If it had moved that much, that meant that Harry must have escaped from the fort.

He looked up again at the horizon. Port Royal still wasn't visible. They were making slower progress than he had hoped, and it was mostly due to a rather bad storm last night. The sails had been partially damaged too, so it was slower, and Jack, try as he might, couldn't make the ship go any faster.

At this rate, it'd be late the next day before they made it to Port Royal.

And, even then, Jack couldn't go ashore, for risk of being seen and captured himself. He'd have to send some crew onto land a small distance away from the town and have them search the place.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry woke up slowly, savouring the comfortable bed. He felt a lot better now, more rested and his neck seemed to be practically fully healed, though he suspected it would always be a little stiffer than it had been.

He sat up and looked around the room. It was the grandest bedroom he'd ever seen, (though that wasn't saying much), and this was only the guest room! The bed was a four-poster like his back at Hogwarts, although it was much bigger. There were wide windows that opened to a view of the sea, and the rest of the furniture in the room looked well-made and expensive.

He (reluctantly) got up and headed for the door. He needed to find Elizabeth and thank her profusely. And possibly get something to eat- he was starving!

It took a while before he found her, down in the kitchens with her son.

"I was about to come and wake you," she said, "I figured that you'd need something to eat."

She pointed to the table, where a simple meal of bread and meat was. He smiled gratefully at her. Harry sat down at the table and began to eat.

"I'd have made you something better, but I didn't know what you liked, and I'm not brilliant in a kitchen, either. One of the maids would usually cook, but I don't want any of them to see you, because I know several of them went down to watch your execution today."

He swallowed what was in his mouth quickly.

"It's perfectly fine, don't worry. Thank you very much, I appreciate it!"

He quickly finished his meal. It was rather plain, but Harry really didn't mind. It was fresher than most of the food he had eaten in the past year, as, living on a ship, food tended to not be the best.

After he had finished, he sat back and Elizabeth took his plate from him. Harry was about to volunteer to do the washing but then he noticed that she had just dumped it into the sink.

"The maids will wash it later," she said, noticing Harry about to get up. "Come," she continued, "We'll talk somewhere a little more comfortable."

She picked up her son and walked out, Harry hastily following.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elizabeth surveyed Harry over a cup of tea. He had his own cup, and was drinking it somewhat awkwardly. Elizabeth thought that that wasn't particularly surprising, after all, Jack Sparrow had never been one to sit down for a drink that wasn't rum, and it was most likely he'd passed that onto his son. Harry, at least, was drinking it. Elizabeth felt sure that Jack wouldn't have.

They had made polite conversation, but Elizabeth still hadn't asked the question she had most wanted to ask. She was working towards it, though.

"So, you've been with Jack for a year now?"

"Yes," replied Harry, "Well, longer actually. It was June last year when I found him, got him out of a rather sticky spot."

"Hm?" Elizabeth looked at him questioningly.

"He was in jail," Harry smirked slightly, "and I somehow found myself down there too, and I broke him out."

Elizabeth laughed, then turned a bit more serious.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you survive that hanging?"

She felt, rather than saw, Harry's eyes surveying her and wondering if he should tell her. Elizabeth wasn't offended; she'd have been the same. After all, you couldn't reveal how to escape death to just _anyone_. He seemed to find her worthy, though, and relaxed.

And then he began to talk.

He told her the whole story, or, at least, she thought he did. How would she know, after all? It was a rather wild tale, but she believed him. Alright, water that made you immortal certainly wasn't what one would call normal, but nothing was impossible when Jack Sparrow was involved, after all.

By then, both Harry and Elizabeth had finished their tea. Elizabeth made to pour him another cup, but he'd politely declined.

"So, what are you planning on doing now?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. Jack's probably on his way here, but he can't come into the town. He shouldn't even be in this part of the sea; it's crawling with Navy ships. I suppose I'll just have to go down to the port tonight and go, one way or another."

Elizabeth knew that 'going' would probably involve stealing a ship, but she didn't really mind. She nodded.

"Well, alright then. But you shouldn't leave the house until it gets dark. It mightn't be as dangerous for you as it would have been yesterday, but there's no point in taking unnecessary risks!" She stood up and looked down at him. "And if you're going to be here for another few hours, I might as well give you a tour of the house. Will's playing in the room next door, I'll get him."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elizabeth left, leaving Harry standing in the lounge. He bent down and started tidying up the teacups nearly automatically. He stacked the cups neatly and was gathering up some spilt sugar when he heard Elizabeth scream.

Harry immediately ran out the door and headed into the next room. Elizabeth wasn't hurt, thank goodness, and neither was Will, but what she was screaming at became apparent at once.

Will was sitting in the middle of the floor, and had been perfectly happy until his mother had walked in and seen that his favourite toys were floating lazily around him.

Harry's eyes widened. Little Will was magical- he was a wizard!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I apologise that this seemed rather short- it is! I'd have made it longer, but this seemed a good stopping point, and anyway, it was very, very difficult to write, for some reason...

'Til next time!


	11. Chapter 11

Okaaaay... after that rather big mistake with the last 2 chapters, I'm going to have to double-check what I upload, rather than just doing it and rushing off to the shower...

Ah, now for questions asked in the reviews (THANK YOU FOR EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!). First of all, Harry won't be _really_ training little Will. Well, he probably will teach him some stuff later (If he runs into them again!), but he's really only four right now. He could just go to a magical school like any other muggleborn... As for how powerful he will be, well, I'm not sure yet. I actually just wrote him in on a whim... And he won't be more powerful than Harry, so don't worry about that. What Will was doing was simply accidental magic; it doesn't mean he has extra control or anything like that. (Although, considering his dad isn't actually what you'd call a normal human anymore, there may be a few side effects...)

But in all honestly, I'm not 100 sure what I'll do with little Will. I've really got to plan that out. But he'll be involved in some way...

And, to be honest, if I walked into a room and saw my son floating objects about, I'd scream my head off. (I asked the opinion of my friend on this matter, though, and she'd scream "WHAT THE HELL?!?!" really loudly. Each to their own, I suppose!)

If I haven't answered a question, that'll be because either it's relevant to the plot and you'll find out what's going to happen sometime later in the story, or it's a really good idea and I'm half tempted to use it...

If you do have any more questions, feel free to ask them.

OMG, I loved DH! Don't worry, I won't be posting any spoilers (heck, I doubt I'll even be including horcruxes anytime in this). I'll also ask you to keep any spoilers out of the reviews... Please!

Please review this!

So, please enjoy what better be CHAPTER ELEVEN!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry stopped and stared at little Will. The four-year old was magical? That was a bit of a surprise, to say the least...

The child looked up at his mother, and the shock of her screaming made him drop the toys back to the ground. He scrunched up his face to cry.

Elizabeth, seeing her son upset, swooped down and picked him up. She hushed and comforted him gently, then turned to Harry, her eyes wide and scared.

"Do you have any idea what happened here? The toys... they were floating, weren't they? Did I imagine it?" she hissed, panicking.

Harry smiled gently. He needed to b e calm for this, which was easier said than done.

"No, you didn't imagine it," he said, and nodded towards a sofa pushed up against the wall nearby, "Sit down. This won't be easy to explain."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she looked like she wanted to demand answers, but she held her tongue and sat, her son cradled on her knee, playing with her hair. Harry sat down on the sofa too, and began to explain.

"Will is what is called a wizard. That means he can do magic," he said patiently. "Yes, wizards and witches are real. Will here would be what is called a muggle-born, which means that, even though he is magical, his parents, that is, you and your husband, aren't. When he's older, he can go to a school that will teach him how to use magic, and you can buy him things he needs to perform magic, like a wand."

"How do you know all this?" interrupted Elizabeth.

Harry smiled again, and pulled his wand out of his boot.

"Because I'm a wizard," he said.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sirius glared at the minister.

"Let me get this clear. You mean to tell me that my godson had managed to disappear from his bed in Hogwarts?"

The minister nodded. He looked petrified of Sirius. Sirius didn't blame him.

"He managed to just vanish out from under your nose?"

Fudge nodded again.

"Into, apparently, thin air?"

Another nod. At this point, Sirius would have felt sorry for the minister. Would have, if Harry wasn't missing.

"And neither you, nor anyone in the entire ministry has the faintest idea where he's gone?"

The minister kept nodding.

Sirius backed off, and sat down in the chair behind him. They'd flooed to the minister's office in London. After Fudge and Albus had assured the aurors guarding the office that they had not, in fact, broken a highly dangerous criminal out of Azkaban, but that said criminal was actually innocent in the first place, they'd sat down, faced each other across a desk and Fudge had told Sirius everything he knew about Harry's disappearance (which wasn't much). Well, they'd started off sitting. Sirius had soon graduated to standing and yelling.

Fudge, who had looked a bit pasty to begin with, was now considerably paler. Dumbledore, of course, was sitting nearby, looking remarkably calm for a person who had just discovered that Sirius Black, thought the Dark Lord's right hand man, was innocent and was also currently yelling the Minister for Magic's head off.

And several Aurors stood guarding the door, still stunned at the revelation that Black was actually not guilty. He hadn't betrayed the Potters after all!

Sirius put his head in his hands. He was out of Azkaban, which was brilliant, but only because Harry was gone. Harry could be hurt or (even though he really didn't like to think it,) dead. And Sirius would take being locked in Azkaban with the dementors and Harry being safe at Hogwarts than him being out and Harry in danger.

"I'm going to help search for him," said Sirius firmly.

The Minister nodded. Sirius knew he could ask for whatever he wanted, and the small, pudgy man in front of him would get it. He was half tempted to ask for Wormtail's head on a plate, but (even though the Minister would probably immediately launch a full scale search for it too) he had to concentrate on helping Harry right now.

He'd made terrible mistakes and they meant that Harry had gone missing. He wasn't going to let Harry down again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After Harry had explained the wizarding world to Elizabeth (which took a while- she kept asking questions) as best he could, and reassured her that she didn't need to worry about Will's powers just yet, she pulled herself together, picked up her son, and decided to continue the tour.

She still asked more questions as they occurred to her, though. Harry was reminded of Hermione. He didn't mind her asking, though, despite the fact that he didn't know the answers to all her questions. After all, he'd only been in the magical world for a few months before he'd arrived in the Caribbean.

The house was big, and it took a while to see all of the rooms. The eventually reached a room near the end.

"This is Will's bedroom," said Elizabeth, opening the door, "I really like the view in here. He hopefully will too, once he grows up a bit. It really is lovely."

She pointed towards the wide window and Harry walked over to it. It was a very nice view, looking over the sea and a cove in the unused part of the island.

Harry frowned and stared out of the window more. There was a ship there, and smaller boats on shore. The ship had black sails. It looked a bit like Jack's descriptions of –

"Isn't that the Black Pearl?" asked Elizabeth, having walked over after him.

Harry looked up at her. "I don't know," he said.

She looked down at him, confused. "How do you not know? You live there, don't you? With Jack."

Harry shook his head. "Didn't you know?" he asked, "Barbossa led another mutiny against him a few days after you lot went your separate ways. He was in Tortuga and came back to discover Gibbs had been left on the port and the Pearl was away in the distance. All Barbossa'd left him was a dinghy."

Elizabeth gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "That total and absolute... _pig!_ What did Jack do then?"

"As far as I know, he just sailed away in the dinghy. I eventually found him around here just over a year ago. I'm not sure what he did in between, he doesn't talk about it much."

Harry looked down at the Pearl again. There wasn't anyone on deck, as far as he could see, but there were other smaller boats on shore. He made a decision.

"I'm going down there," he said.

Elizabeth looked at him. She looked like she was about to protest, but thought better of it. "Alright," she said, "but let me give you some more food to take with you first."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Five minutes later, Harry crept out of the back door, a bag of food slung over his back. He waved goodbye to Elizabeth and Will, then disappeared into the trees beyond her garden and started making his way to the beach.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It took another ten minutes of jogging to reach his destination. He stopped in the trees at the edge of the sand and surveyed his surroundings. The beach, and what he could see of the ship, was deserted, although he could hear distant voices behind him. He was safe for the moment.

Now, how to get to the Pearl? Harry looked at the water and considered swimming over, but dismissed it almost immediately. Although Jack had taught him how to swim, he wasn't especially confident yet, and the ship was a bit too far out to risk it.

He looked at the nearest small boat on the sand. It hadn't been pulled up to the shore properly, and even now it looked as though the sea was about to pull it out. Harry took another look at it, and then made another snap decision.

He cast the spell to make him invisible again, ran out onto the sand, pushed the boat into the water, and jumped in.

It took a few minutes to reach the Pearl, but once he did, Harry was glad to see a ladder on the side to climb up. He manoeuvred the boat as close to the Black Pearl as he could get and gripped the ladder firmly. He hoisted himself up slightly, but lowered one leg down to the boat and pushed it as hard as he could towards shore, the waves helping it on its way. Hopefully by the time whoever had gone to shore in it came back, it would be close enough to shore to make them think that it just hadn't been pulled up onto the sand properly and had drifted off.

Harry started to climb the ladder. He reached the top and poked his head up and over, double-checking to make sure the deck was empty. Reassuring himself that it was, he cambered up onto the deck. He looked toward the shore again, and was alarmed to see that people had appeared and were climbing into the boats. Some had already set sail towards the Pearl.

Harry bit his lip as the reality of what he had just done hit him suddenly. He was stranded on a ship he didn't know at all, with a bunch of pirates who had committed mutiny against his dad, and therefore probably wouldn't like him much either. The food he had with him wouldn't last long, and after that he'd have to steal from this lot, which would be a lot easier said than done.

And they would be setting sail any minute now. How was Jack supposed to find him if he was on a ship that was a lot faster than his was?

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and hurried towards the nearest door, leading down into the ship. It opened and he approached and he had to jump out of the way to avoid the emerging man running into him. Harry recognised him from Jack's descriptions as Barbossa, the pirate that had led a mutiny against him twice. He had a big, rather odd-looking hat, a straggly beard, and a monkey on his shoulder.

Harry ignored him and slipped in through the door, down into the ship.

He hunted about for a few minutes until he came to the main hold, which was being used for storage, although there were a few hammocks in it for people to sleep in, as they seemed to have run out of room upstairs.

Harry settled himself into a corner, behind some barrels of what smelt like rum and settled in to wait.

After a few minutes, he heard what must have been Barbossa yelling at the pirates who was come back. "Did you find anything? No? Then this has been a waste of time, you useless scallywags! We could have been seen from shore! We risked our lives by being here, and you didn't find anything at all of value?!?!"

Harry tuned him out, and just sat, thinking. The men on this ship had chosen that horrible man upstairs over his dad as captain? Something didn't add up.

Harry became aware that the ship started moving. Peering out of a small hole to his left, he saw the island, and Elizabeth's mansion, grow steadily smaller as they quickly sped away through the water.

What had he done? How on earth was Jack going to find him now?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack was, for once, not at the wheel. Instead, he was at the very front of the ship, peering into the distance with his telescope. He could see Port Royal now, just about. His compass had pointed in that direction the last time he'd looked.

Speaking of which, he glanced down at it again, and dropped his telescope in shock. The compass needle had moved from pointing northeast to practically north. Even as he stared at it, it kept moving very slowly to the left.

What the hell?

Jack picked up his telescope again and stared through it, looking in the direction the compass told him to. He thought he spotted a tiny dot on the horizon, but he wasn't sure.

Nevertheless, his compass was pointing that way, and Jack practically sprinted back to the wheel to adjust the course of the ship accordingly.

He hoped beyond hope that he'd find Harry soon.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Ok, there's another chapter done. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Sorry it took me so long to write, by the way, but between Rome, Deathly Hallows and my drama course, I've been a bit busy! Add in that this chapter was again rather difficult to write...

But I'll try and get the next chapter up ASAP!

'Til next time!


	12. Chapter 12

I do apologize profusely for taking so long to get this up. I bought the Sims 2 game and it's proved amazingly addictive. When I managed to conquer that addiction (slightly...) I found myself with an amazing case of writer's block. And after that, my family and I went on a three-day trip to Kilkenny (lovely place, that...)I know it isn't much of an excuse, but it's all I have, and the truth. Sorry!

Enjoy chapter twelve...

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry was about to doze off when he heard the door to the room he was hiding in open. He jumped in shock and tried to go further back into his hiding space.

"-Can't believe he made us spend all that time lookin', and it wasn't even there!"

"Well, he did say that we mightn't-"

"Find anything, I know, I know, but that don' stop it bein' a waste of our time! An' we coulda got caught, too. It's stupid, an' pointless, an' ye all know it!" A pause. "Ye know what? I really wish Barbossa hadn't got rid of Jack Sparrow! He's ten times the cap'n that Barbossa'll ever be!"

Someone sighed. "We know tha', Pintel, an' ye've said it before, an' we all wish it too. But it don' stop the fact tha' he's been gone for near five years now, an' we ain't seen hide nor hair of him since he stepped off the ship in Tortuga. An' I know we didn' wanna mutiny, but if we'd tried to stop Barbossa, he'd have either dumped us on land too, or, more likely, killed us. What happened, happened, an' we can't change that. Even if it does mean that we're stuck with that waste o' space upstairs as our captain!"

Harry's eyes widened. They were unhappy? Harry knew Jack would do near enough anything to get the Pearl back- he'd told Harry that several times. He stopped his train of thought when someone else started talking.

"That's fair an' all, but I honestly don' know if I can stand much longer with that idiot. That's the sixth useless stop we've had in the past two months, and we'll prob'ly have six more! I'd mutiny now, if I could, but the six of us couldn' stop Barbossa an' his crew."

A parrot squawked. "Wind in yer sails! Wind in yer sails!"

"Well, we migh' be able to," a voice said thoughtfully, "We're all decent enough swordfighters, an' there's only another seven plus Barbossa on this ship. It's only him we have to worry abou', really. He's good."

The second pirate interrupted again. "Sure, we migh' be able to take 'em, if we were lucky and timed it right, but we'd mutiny to what point and purpose? There's on'y six of us, an' tha' migh' be just enough to take over, but we won't have a captain. Much as I hate te say it, we're better off under Barbossa than we are just us. We'd need a decent captain, and the best one out there is Jack Sparrow, an' we don' know where he is, or even if he'd come back after we left him."

Harry was suddenly tempted to stand up and announce his presence. They needed a captain, and even though he knew he wouldn't do it, he knew Jack'd jump at the chance to get his ship back. He held his tongue, though, for another minute at least.

"He would!" said one. Harry thought back and realised he'd been called Pintel. "I ain't sayin' I know Jack Sparrow better than all ye lot, but I know tha' he'd love to be back!"

"Thing is, we ain't seen him for years. I ain't heard anythin' abou' him, either. We don' know where he is, even if he's still alive!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. Jack was more alive now that he ever had been- hell, he couldn't be killed! Did they honestly think he'd have died?

"Well, Marty, ye've got to agree that ain't particularly likely! There's not much that could stop Jack Sparrow!"

There was laughter.

"But seriously. I really don' know how much longer I can stan' that man without shootin' him. I migh' just jump ship next time we make port!"

A chorus of voices came.

"Aw, ye wouldn't!"

"Ye can't, Ragetti! There's few enough of us as it is!"

Harry took advantage of the chatter to shift a bit, into a more comfortable position. The voices slowly stopped, and Ragetti began to say something. But before he could get any words out, Harry made a rather big mistake. He leaned a little too heavily on the barrels behind him and, wouldn't you know it, they were badly stacked and came crashing to the floor, thankfully missing Harry.

Unfortunately, the pirates having a conversation not five foot away couldn't miss the racket. Harry muttered some words Jack had taught him before making another rather rash decision and standing up.

"Hello," he said, staring at the numerous guns and swords pointed at him, "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Harry Sparrow."

And after that there was silence for a few seconds, then a collective "WHAAA?"

Harry smirked. "You heard me, didn't you?"

It was a balding, squinty man who answered him. From his voice, Harry knew he was called Pintel.

"You- ye related to Jack Sparrow, then?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yep. I'm his son."

Even more shocked silence answered this. Eventually another man spoke, a tall one with an eye patch. Harry knew from his voice that he was Ragetti.

"Spittin' image of 'im, ye are!"

Harry grinned at him. "Thanks. I get that a lot."

"But , we didn' know he had a son!"

"Well, in all fairness, he didn't actually know until last year. Lived in England with my Mum until she died, and a few months after that, I came out here to find him."

Harry paused and smiled again. He knew that he looked particularly like Jack when he smiled, as they had the exact same smile. Or rather, Harry had started smiling like Jack unconsciously in the past year sometime. He was aware that his voice sounded very different, though. He still tended to speak properly, and his accent was still distinctly English. Hopefully that would fade a bit, with some more time.

"So, I believe we were going to plot a mutiny?"

"Hang on a minute," said a very short bald man, "how did you get on this ship?"

Harry shrugged. "Snuck on when you lot were on land doing... whatever it was you were sent to do. Wasn't hard. I could see the Pearl from up on that hill. Jack told me all about it, I recognised it from his descriptions and decided to sneak aboard and see where it took me."

The little man seemed to accept that.

Another slightly short and chubby man asked another question.

"Just where is Jack Sparrow? Why ain't he with you?"

Harry looked at him. Well, it was a valid question.

"Well, we were in Tortuga a few days ago, when I was kidnapped by agents from the East India Trading company. They left Jack alone, just wanted me. So they knocked me out and took me on their ship back to Port Royal there. Gillette tried to get information out of me, but I didn't tell him anything, and he branded me." Harry showed them the 'P', still dark red, but not as sore, under the makeshift bandage. They locked me back up, but I managed to escape late last night and headed for the deserted part of the island. When I got here, I saw your ship and sneaked on."

"Why did ye sneak on?" asked Pintel.

Harry smiled again and shrugged. "I'm not sure why, really. Could be because I had no particular desire to stay anywhere near that town, 'cause if anyone sees me I'll be back in prison in no time at all!"

Harry surveyed them all.

"Anyways, gents, I happened to overhear that you aren't all that pleased with your current captain, and, to be honest, I can't blame you."

Harry stepped over the fallen barrels and wove around the pirates until he found a chair by the table. He sat down on it and looked up at the others, who were still looking at him with a mixture of shock and admiration.

"And I happen to know just the man who would love to get this ship back, and revenge on the guy who took it from him."

Harry's smile turned feral, and he leaned over the table.

"So, gents, it seems we have a mutiny to plan."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sirius was training. He'd wanted to help look, so the minister was letting him join the main auror squadron that was going to be looking for Harry, as he'd been an auror before he was arrested.

The minister had, however, requested (very politely) that Sirius go through some of the basic training again first, though. A 'refresher course', he called it.

Sirius had very nearly refused, but then he'd thought about it. There were many people out already looking, even though it had been over a month already. If he went out now, malnourished and wasted away after ten years in Azkaban, he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

But a few days retraining would help immensely, he knew.

Right now he was duelling one of the other aurors. It was very difficult, but Sirius was glad to see that all his skills hadn't deserted him in Azkaban- he only needed to get used to using them again.

He tried his hardest to concentrate on what Kingsley Shacklebolt was doing, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his missing godson.

_I'll find you, Harry,_ he promised himself, _and when I do I'll kill the guy that took you._

Little did he know, that over two and a half centuries earlier, another man quite like himself that thought the very same thing about the very same person.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack was still staring at his compass, but he had moved from the helm of the ship to his cabin as Wally had pushed him away from the wheel again. Jack hadn't protested as much as the last time, but he'd still been very reluctant to move. Wally had only persuaded him to go downstairs after a promise that he'd keep an eye on that dot on the horizon and tell Jack if it changed direction or speed in the slightest.

Jack stared at his compass.

He knew that what he wanted most in the world right now was his son back, but he had a nagging feeling he knew exactly what ship that one in the distance was.

_The Pearl._

He knew he wanted his ship back, but he thought he knew his head by now. How was it possible that Harry was on board the Pearl? Had Barbossa discovered who he was and kidnapped him all over again?

Because he knew he'd take Harry over the Pearl any day.

His head still confused and fuzzy from lack of sleep, Jack lay down on his bed and closed h is eyes. He knew he wouldn't sleep well, but he needed the rest badly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry and the others (he'd learnt their names by now) put the finishing touches on their plan, hoping against hope that this time tomorrow, they wouldn't have to put up with Barbossa any longer.

All they had to do now was wait until nightfall.

At night, there would only be two or three crewmembers awake, and Barbossa would be in bed, asleep, as would the vast majority of the rest of the crew.

It would be the perfect time to take over.

But there were still several hours to go before they could even start the beginning stages. Harry declined the others offers to join them in a game of cards or dice, and hid behind the barrels again, in case anyone came in. The men in the room had to leave every so often to go and do their work up on the ship, but they always came back.

Harry thought about sleeping, but decided against it. He knew he wouldn't sleep, so it was pointless to even try.

Instead, he found a small chunk of wood on the floor, and decided to try and practice doing something with it wandlessly and wordlessly. He knew it would be difficult and that he probably wouldn't manage to accomplish it, but he thought he might as well try.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, after double-checking that no part of him was visible from the door. He'd even got Mulroy to check.

So he sat and stared at the piece of wood.

_Wingardium__ Leviosa,_ he thought. Nothing happened.

He thought it again, harder. Still nothing. He tried pointing at it and concentrating, but that didn't work either. Eventually he just screwed his eyes shut and started to chant in his head.

_WingardiumLeviosaWingardiumLeviosaWingardiumLeviosaWingardiumLeviosaWingardium Leviosa_...

He opened an eye and glanced at the wood again. It moved slightly, but it didn't float.

Harry glared at the chunk of wood. Why wouldn't it float? It wasn't as if it was the hardest spell he'd ever done!

He closed his eyes again.

_Floatfloatfloatfloatfloatfloat__! You stupid piece of wood!__Wingardium__ Leviosa!_

Harry opened his eyes. The lump of wood was hovering before him. He grinned.

The wood fell to the floor and Harry geared up to try again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was over an hour later when Harry finally stopped. He was now able to lift the wood into the air easily enough, and, if he used hand gestures, he could get it to move about a little bit, too.

He had to stop, however, when he realised that practicing his magic in such a way was tiring him out immensely. He peeked out of the hole next to him and saw that there were at least another two hours yet until it would be dark enough to start the mutiny.

He tried to make himself comfortable, lying back on the barrels, and closed his eyes. He still doubted he'd sleep, but it was better than nothing and he might as well try. At the very least, there was no point in keeping practicing and tiring himself out even more, because then he would be in no fit state to fight tonight, and fighting was going to be inevitable.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

And that's the end of another chapter. I apologise once again for the awful amount of time it took to get this out. I am very, very sorry! I shall try and get chapter thirteen out sooner!

'Til next time!


	13. Chapter 13

Well, everyone, I'm glad that you all enjoyed the last chapter!

I'll say again, Will is not going to be as powerful as Harry. Nowhere near. Sure he did accidental magic, and it probably seems pretty powerful and deliberate, but look what Harry did before he came to Hogwarts. He vanished glass, turned a teacher's hair blue, transfigured a jumper to make it smaller and _appara__ted_ on to the school roof! Compared to apparition, I don't think a little levitation is too powerful! Harry probably could do the same and more at the same age!

Now, onto chapter thirteen! (Oh, unlucky!)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry could never actually remember if he had gotten to sleep or not, but when he opened his eyes again and looked out, he realised that it was nearly time. All the other pirates taking part in the mutiny were sitting around the table, looking nervous.

Harry took a deep breath and jumped up.

"All ready, then?" The men nodded. "No second thoughts?" They shook their heads.

Harry looked at them. "Well, aren't you lot excited? Do you want this or not?"

Cotton's parrot squawked. Marty looked at it and said, "Aye!" That started a chorus of other 'Aye's from around the table. Harry smiled at them.

"Good. Now, I'll need a sword."

Pintel looked shocked. "Don' ya have one?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No. The East India Trading Company officers have an annoying habit of taking any weapons they can find away from you."

"Oh, right," replied Pintel, and he got up, walked over to a corner and picked one up. "'Ere, you can have my spare," he said, and threw it over.

"Thanks," said Harry, catching it easily and inspecting it. It was old and dull, but easy to grip and the blade was still very sharp. "Everyone else have theirs?"

Another chorus of "Aye!"

"Oh, and it would help a good deal if some of you had guns."

As Harry headed towards the door, he heard someone mutter, "He tells us this _now_? Bloody 'ell, e's Jack ta the core!"

Harry smirked and headed out. He could mostly remember the way up from earlier, and the others had assured him that he wouldn't meet anybody. Everyone liked to get an early night, they said, unless it was their turn to steer and guard the ship throughout the night. The only people not in bed right now were the two standing guard (one at the wheel, one in the crow's nest) and themselves.

Harry nodded to Cotton, who had brought a chair from their room up with them.

"You know what to do," he said.

He nodded, and the parrot on his shoulder squawked. Harry shushed it, feeling rather stupid as he did so.

As Cotton disappeared down a corridor, holding the chair aloft, Harry continued leading the others up the stairs. Cotton was going to place the chair under the door handle of Barbossa's cabin to stop him getting out quickly. Harry had no doubts that the man would escape, but it would buy them vital minutes to defeat the rest of the crew first.

Harry emerged onto the deck, and the man at the wheel shouted down, "Who's there?"

Pintel, Ragetti and Murtogg went up to him. Harry had told them to tell him what they were doing, and if he didn't join them, they take him out. It was a bit drastic, and Harry wasn't totally comfortable with the idea of killing any more, but it had to be done to increase their chances of making this mutiny successful.

The other two climbed the rigging to the crow's nest. They were to do the same to him.

Harry went to the door leading back down, and hid in a shadow nearby. He nearly jumped out at Cotton coming back up, but realised who it was just in time, and Cotton joined him.

He heard something behind him and turned around to see Pintel, Murtogg and Ragetti returning with another pirate in tow. Harry grinned at them.

"Right, Jonas, this is Harry, we told you about 'im, and Harry, meet Jonas. He's decided to join us."

Jonas stretched out his hand and Harry shook it, smiling.

"Pleased to meet y-," Harry started to say, but was cut off by an enormous _thump!_ As a body fell to the deck a few metres away from them. He looked at it, and was relieved to see that he didn't recognise whoever it was.

"Looks like 'e decided to side with Barbossa," said Ragetti. "Shame, that. Decent with a sword, 'e was."

Harry pushed any guilt out of his mind. He could deal with it later, but for now he had a mutiny to take care of. He gave Jonas a tight smile, and said, "Lower the anchor!"

Several men immediately went and dropped it. Harry felt the ship rock violently and it stopped suddenly and gratingly. His smile increased.

"They'll have felt that downstairs. Now, get ready. They'll be up any minute."

At his words, the pirates sprang into action. Murtogg and Pintel stood on either side of the door, ready to ambush the first few who came out. Harry had instructed them to give as many as they could the chance to join them. He wanted to spare as many as he could, but he knew that quite a lot of people on this ship would die tonight either way. The only variable now was if it was going to be his man, or Barbossa's.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Albert Barbossa was Hector Barbossa's nephew, and as such, had been one of the first new pirates that his uncle had picked up, and he had been immediately given the post of first mate. He'd been here over four and a half years now, and got on well with most of the crew. Well, half. There were that group of six sharing the hold that kept mostly to themselves. Bert got the feeling that they didn't like their captain much.

He was lying on his bunk in his cabin at that moment in time (for only he and the captain got their own cabins, everyone else had to share), lost in thought and not able to sleep, when he felt the ship violently shudder and he was thrown out of bed onto the unforgiving floor. He glared up at the ceiling and rubbed his head where it had hit against the floor.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

He got up and exited his cabin and headed towards the deck. The Captain had the bigger cabin further down and Bert didn't even bother looking down that way- his uncle was quite a heavy sleeper, and if that shock hadn't woke him up, Bert wasn't going to try. He could probably do it, but Hector hated being woken up from sleep, and if there was no good reason for it, he'd be very angry indeed. No, it'd be his job tonight to check what that was. He passed the room where four others slept and climbed the stairs to deck.

He didn't know what he'd expected to find or to happen, but he most certainly hadn't expected to be grabbed roughly the minute the stepped out the door and held tight against the wall with a sword to his throat.

"This is a mutiny," came a voice. Bert looked up and realised it was one of the six of the crew that didn't like his uncle much- Pintel. "And either you choose to join us now or you die."

And what could Bert do but nod his head (not too vigorously, that sword was held far too close to his throat to risk that) and say, "Yes, yes, of course!"

Pintel surveyed him and nodded. "Righ', then. This shouldn't be too hard now, eh? More of us that there are of them!"

Another man that Bert recognised as Ragetti threw him a sword, which he didn't really expect and nearly cut his head off, but he just managed to catch it and make his way over to the side.

He looked out and hit his lip. There was a mutiny going on? Well, that was... unexpected, to say the least. The never would have thought that that lot would have gathered up the nerve to do it, saying as their chance of winning wasn't great. But now, thought Bert bitterly, their chances of taking over looked more than likely. And he'd have to either side with them, and fight against the uncle that took him in after his mother died, or die.

Not what you'd call the nicest set of options.

He looked at the sword in his hand. He wouldn't betray his uncle- Hector had given him a job and a place to live- albeit both were on a pirate ship- and he wouldn't side against him, no matter what.

But that still left the problem of what to do now. He heard a thump beneath him and looked at the floor. Other men must be getting out of bed to see what was going on. He couldn't just stand by and watch them either turn against their captain or be killed. He had to do something!

Bert turned around and stalked back to the door. The two men were still there, staring down the dark corridor, watching for someone to come up. He raised his sword and-

Pain. A sharp shock, and the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. Time seemed to slow, almost to a standstill. He dropped his sword, which fell harmlessly onto the floor, and looked down. There was another sword sticking out of his chest. Even as he watched, it withdrew again, and he was falling, falling onto the floor.

He looked up, and the last things Bert Barbossa ever saw were a pair of bright, green eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Harry looked from his sword to the glassy-eyed corpse on the deck, to the shocked faces of Murtogg and Pintel, who were still guarding the door, and Ragetti, who had been standing nearby, but facing the other way.

"Erm... thanks?" said Pintel, as it had been he who the man had been aiming for. "For, um, you know, saving my life and all."

Harry nodded at him, then looked back to the body and swallowed. It wasn't easy- his throat was dry. "You're welcome," he managed to say, "And keep guard. More'll be coming up soon. How many's left?"

"Four," answered Ragetti, "Not countin' Barbossa."

Harry nodded again. "Well, then, we'll still need to be ready. I'd have thought it'd be more, but the less there is, the better for us."

The three men nodded in agreement. Murtogg and Pintel sank back into the shadows by the sides of the door and Ragetti stood not far away, in case he was needed.

Harry headed up to the other end of the boat, where the four others were waiting. He explained to them what had happen, and they all nodded wisely.

"Yeah, 'e loved Barbossa. Uncle of 'is"

"Not the nicest guy I've ever met, though, was he?"

"Nah, but loyal. Ye'd have had te kill him- he'd never 'have joined us..."

Harry agreed. He did feel guilty, but he knew he had to stop with that. He couldn't afford to suddenly come down with guilt in the middle of a battle- it'd be suicide. He could sit and think and berate himself later.

He nodded at them, warned that they should get ready, as it would be really starting soon, and made his way back to the door, just in time to see several shadows move at the end of the corridor. He quickly ducked out of sight and signalled to the others.

He watched as the four pirates left (not including Barbossa) emerged, and the fight began. Pintel punched the first one up, but he was soon punched back and all four were in fighting mode now. Swords were drawn, and the clang of metal hitting metal was loud enough to wake the dead. The other four at the front rushed to join in the fray, and it was a real battle, although a little one-sided. Barbossa's pirates themselves soon managed to put Ragetti, Marty and Cotton out of the fight. Harry looked at them worried, but saw that they were only injured and not dead.

Harry deliberately stayed back in the shadows, out of the chaos. He was waiting for Barbossa.

He didn't have to wait that long. Barbossa came out a few minutes later, probably after knocking his door down. He joined the fight too and Harry rushed in at the same time.

Everyone on the opposing side seemed shocked to see him (and really, why wouldn't they?) but Harry targeted his sword at Barbossa and managed to separate him from the rest, so that Harry could fight him without having to worry about the other pirate attacking him.

Barbossa was a good swordfighter, but not quite up to Jack's level, and Jack said he had improved a good bit since the last time he and Barbossa fought. Harry wasn't quite up to Jack's standard either (yet), so he and Barbossa were about evenly matched.

Harry swung his sword and blocked a swipe that Barbossa sent at him.

"Who _are_ you?" the captain asked, bringing his sword down in a move that, had Harry not blocked it, would have taken off his head.

Harry retaliated, and smirked. "Harry Sparrow, son of Jack Sparrow. Can't say I'm pleased to meet you."

"Sparrow has a_ son?_"

"Obviously. You're fighting him."

Harry stabbed his sword at Barbossa, but he just swept it out of the way and made the same move back. Harry had to duck quickly and aimed his sword upwards. This swipe managed to hit Barbossa, catching him in the side and drawing first blood. It wasn't going to kill him or take him down, but it was enough to be very painful, and slow him down a bit.

Barbossa got revenge by trying to hit Harry's head, but Harry moved just in time, but the blow was still close enough to take some skin off his ear.

Harry concentrated on the fight, on Barbossa's movements, seeing if there was a pattern or method. He remembered when they had discussed how well the pirates swordfighted earlier, and how Marty had said that the one fault of Barbossa's was to get overconfident in battle if he thought he had the upper hand, and would then make mistakes.

Harry decided to put that advice to the test, and started making deliberate, very small mistakes, like dodging or blocking just in time when earlier he would have cut it off sooner. He left small openings when he was sure Barbossa noticed them, but managed to recover just in time, before he took advantage of it. Harry even let him hit his left arm by deliberately not dodging soon enough. He'd tried to get Barbossa to hit him in a place where he couldn't do much damage, and the left arm was one of those places. The cut was small and shallow, but it stung. Harry ignored it, and kept fighting.

He saw Barbossa becoming more and more confident and big-headed as the fight wore on, and Harry noticed that Barbossa left a few openings every now and then, and didn't notice them. Harry deliberately didn't take advantage of them, and pretended to tire more than he was.

Barbossa, sure now that he could win, grew very cocky indeed. As Harry blocked a sideways swipe, he saw the opening he had been waiting for, took advantage of it, and lunged. His sword cut a huge gash in Barbossa's right shoulder and down his chest. That was nearly enough to put him out of the fight, as it was big but not deep and had to hurt like hell, but Barbossa surprised Harry by ignoring it as best he could and continuing the fight.

It got harder again now, as Barbossa lost his cockiness, and then the worst possible thing happened.

Barbossa got Harry straight in the chest, a jab that went deep, and, in normal circumstances, would have killed him in under a minute. These, however, were not normal circumstances, but Harry knew he wouldn't be able to fight again unless he was given quite a lot of time to recover- and that certainly wouldn't happen.

The pain was awful. If he'd thought that earlier, when he'd gotten his wrist branded, was agonizing, this was many times worse.

He could have kept standing a little longer, but he fell to the ground anyway, thinking about what he could possibly do next. Barbossa stood over him and cackled, a loud laugh that filled the air.

The battle that had been going on nearby had turned in Harry's favour, but when Barbossa laughed, the five left fighting had paused, and in that moment the fight changed direction again. Thinking that their ringleader had been killed, the three on Harry's side nearly gave up on the spot, and fought with an amazing amount of sorrow and guilt on their minds, which dragged them down immensely. Hadn't they, after all, taken part in a mutiny and gotten Jack Sparrow's son killed?

But Harry wasn't dead, not by a long shot. When he collapsed on the floor and Barbossa had turned away to face the others, he covered his head with his hands and tried to concentrate to make his magic vanish the pain and heal the wound. He didn't even know if it was possible, but he concentrated harder than he'd ever done before, and just focussed on making the pain disappear.

After what felt like a lifetime, he thought he felt something- a strange, tingling heat that started deep inside him and began, slowly, to spread outwards, enveloping the pain and making it disappear. When Harry looked down, he saw a dim, fuzzy yellow light emanating from his chest. Without breaking concentration, he glanced up at Barbossa, who now had his back turned to him and was shouting something about righteousness and how he _hated_ mutineers, and how every single person who'd dared fight against him was going to be murdered and dumped into the sea to be taken to the locker, because that's what happened to mutineers...

While Barbossa was distracted by the sound of his own voice, Harry, moving very slowly, opened the buttons on his shirt (probably quite unnecessary, as it had quite a large tear in it from where he was stabbed, and others from the fight besides) and looked down at the wound. It was still there, no doubt about it, and still stung a little, but it was much better than he had been. The use of the magic had exhausted him thoroughly, but he took a deep breath and stood up slowly, raising his sword as he went.

Barbossa didn't notice him, nor did the pirates on his side, as they were all too busy listening to him, but the rest of the crew, the pirates on Harry's side, had noticed him, and were staring very unsubtly at him.

Harry approached Barbossa and raised his sword high. The captain and his crew noticed him a second too late, and as Barbossa turned, Harry managed to hit him very hard over the head with the handle of his sword. Which was probably not what everyone thought was the right end of a sword to hit Barbossa with.

Barbossa was knocked out cold with the force of the blow, and collapsed harmlessly at Harry's feet.

Everyone stared at Barbossa for a few seconds, and then raised their eyes to Harry.

"Now," he said, "Let's finish this thing, then."

The next few minutes were a blur as far as Harry was concerned. He managed to tie up Barbossa and give him another whack over the head (just to make sure) while the crew took care of the rest, and then he made it over to the side of the ship and looked out. He acquired a telescope and peered into the distance, as he had a rough idea of where he should be looking.

After a few minutes, he found it. It wasn't easy in the dark, but he was sure he saw another ship, heading straight towards them at full speed. Harry could easily imagine Jack standing at the wheel, yelling out orders.

He smiled, and then sank to the floor. Exhaustion caught up on him from healing himself had taken a lot out of him, and sleep overtook him in a matter of seconds.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I apologise for the long time it took to get this out! I plead the excuse of school starting up again- homework has overtaken me!

But I have survived, and brought you this. And, it's the MUTINY! I hope you lot are happy with it, and it's even longer than my usual, by over a thousand words! It took a long time, but I'm happy with it.

In other news, I've had an idea for another fanfic and I'm starting to plan it out. I don't know if I'll get round to posting it at all, but I've recently become rather obsessed with it, so that can only be a good sign!

Please review!

'Til next time!


	14. Chapter 14

YES, I AM ACTUALLY STILL ALIVE! I apologise profusely for taking so long with this- I'd like to promise that the next one will be out sooner, but I can't. I have no idea how long it'll take, but I DO promise to get it out ASAP.

Well, here you all go. Chappie 14. Hope you all like it!

HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC

When Harry woke up, it was still dark and he was still lying in the shadows at the edge of the deck. He opened his eyes slowly, still tired, just in time to see a pair of boots walk past and a voice shout, "HARRY? YOU HERE? HARRY!?"

Harry glanced up and saw the back of a very familiar head- Jack!

"No need to shout," said Harry quietly.

Jack spun around so fast he nearly fell over. "Harry?"

"I'm here."

Harry smiled and stood up slowly on shaky legs. "Just a bit tired. How long have you been here?"

"A minute or two. You alright?"

"Mostly. Bit tired. A lot's happened."

"You don't say." Jack looked around, surveying the bodies (in a pile not far away). He raised a hand. "What precisely happened here?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "I... led a mutiny and got the Pearl back. Wasn't that hard. A good portion of the crew wanted you back anyway."

Jack stared at him rather incredulously. "You got on this ship from Port Royal, and managed to take over in a few hours?"

Harry nodded.

Jack grinned at him and slapped his back. "That's me boy!"

Harry grinned back up at him. "Thanks. We left Barbossa alive. He's tied up in the brig. We left him for you."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Did you now? Thanks. I'll deal with him later. Now, I've got to go and sort things out from here."

Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep again, but he had work to do and help Jack out.

HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC

It was nearly morning by the time they got everything sorted. They had had to dispose of the bodies, sort out who was going to sleep where, move all of the stuff they needed from their old ship to the Pearl, figure out who was staying on the old ship and who was going to captain it now (because it was still a perfectly good ship) and by the time Harry collapsed into his new bed in his new cabin (after carefully putting his clothes away and hiding his book under his new mattress).

Jack never said what he did with Barbossa, and Harry never asked, as, truth be told, he really didn't want to know.

The next evening, when Harry wasn't as tired and had gone to his cabin, Jack followed, invited himself in and asked what happened.

And so Harry told him the entire story, from being knocked out, taken to Port Royal, the brand (Jack asked to see it. It was faded now, to a reddish-pink colour, and didn't hurt at all anymore. Jack inspected it and said it would probably take a few weeks for it to fade to white, like his.), his hanging, meeting Elizabeth, to getting onto the Pearl and sorting out the mutiny.

The entire thing took about twenty minutes to explain in full. Jack only made the odd comment during the tale, and sat in a minor state of shock after Harry finished.

Harry looked at him nervously and bit his lip. "Well?" he said.

Jack looked up at him. "Will and Lizzie have a _kid?_"

Harry burst out laughing, and Jack stood up, smiling himself, and gave Harry a brief, one-armed hug, and ruffled his hair.

"Now, go to sleep!" he said. "You're going to be up early tomorrow!"

Harry threw his pillow at him, but Jack just caught it and threw it back, still grinning. It hit Harry and a few feathers escaped and nestled in his hair. Jack laughed and ducked out of the room before Harry threw it back.

HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC HPCC

It was a few weeks later that they made Port in Tortuga again, to stock up on more supplies, and just to let the pirates who stayed with them (Two from the old ship and the seven that fought for Jack in the mutiny) a chance to get onto solid land again.

Jack, however, had an ulterior motive for stopping there. Tortuga, while not the pleasantest of towns, was home to the best tattoo artist in the Caribbean.

But it wasn't himself that wanted the tattoo this time. It was Harry.



Jack had noticed his son looking at his tattoos, and although Harry hadn't actually said anything, Jack could read him like a book. Harry wanted a tattoo, and Jack was fairly sure that he had one (or two... or more) picked out already. He just hadn't asked yet.

Jack knew that Harry wasn't all that likely to actually outright ask if he could get one, he just wasn't that type of person. However, he had been dropping subtle hints, whether he knew it or not, and Jack was perfectly alright with Harry getting a tattoo. After all, he had been younger that Harry was he got his first one!

So, after Jack had moored in Tortuga and had worked out a guard rota for the next few days (just in case), he grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into the maze of alleys and side streets.

Harry protested being dragged off, but after a few minutes he saw it was no use arguing and just let Jack tow him around, until they eventually stopped outside a dingy shop.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, a little miffed at being dragged through Tortuga.

"We," said Jack proudly, "are outside the shop of Inky Black!"

"And who," said Harry, rather suspiciously, "is Inky Black?"

"Only the best tattoo artist in the Caribbean! He did all of mine for me. Thought it was about time you got one! Or two! Or seven! Whatever floats your boat!" He grabbed Harry's arm (the one without the brand on it), and dragged him into the shop.

Harry grinned. He was going to get a tattoo!

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Harry walked out of the shop five hours later with a very sore shoulder and back, but with a beaming smile.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" he said to Jack excitedly.

Jack laughed. "Calm down. We don't have that long before we have to get back to the Pearl, and I got some things to pick up."

As Jack led him through the streets, Harry thought about the new designs on his back and shoulder.

On his left shoulder, Harry now had the same tattoo as Jack had on his right arm- a sparrow flying over the sea, into the Sun.

The one on his back had taken _hours_! It was thin, but very long, stretching down from the end on his neck to the small of his back. The design wasn't complicated, but it was so well done and detailed that it had taken ages.



It was a noose, dark brown rope dangling down his back, and so detailed you could practically see each fibre, twisting around each other.

Harry had thought that it was appropriate- a sign of death, when death had been such a big thing in his life. He liked thinking that it was also a symbol that he was still alive- despite several close shaves.

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Sirius sighed. He was in the Gryffindor first year dorms with five other Aurors, searching the place-again. The other aurors had apparently searched it in the days just after Harry disappeared- and hadn't found anything. And Sirius was also not finding anything. Typical.

All of Harry's things were there- his broomstick, his books, his owl, his trunk, everything- except a wand and a pillow. The wand, well, fair enough, if Sirius was plucked out of bed in the middle of the night, he'd fight tooth and nail to bring his wand too. But the pillow? That being missing was just plain weird.

The only other thing they had found was a trace of magic on the bed- but, whereas usually it could be easily found out what that magic was, this time, nobody had a clue. The spell that showed the last few pieces of magic within a certain area had always worked before, had always said what the spell used was. But, this time, all it was throwing up was gibberish.

Which still meant that they had no idea where Harry had gone.

The only other place to get a lead was with Harry's friends- the three guys he'd been hanging out with that day.

The two older ones- twins- had been interviewed several times and had their memories of the day copied and put into a pensieve. The younger one- Harry's best friend, apparently- had only been interviewed once, not that long ago, as he was pretty shaken up. He hadn't given any memories yet, as he just wasn't up to it.

However, his mother had been in contact. She said he was getting better- the pain hadn't faded, but he was learning how to deal with it. He'd be giving another interview later today.

Sirius hoped that they'd find out something, anything, about where Harry was, or how he was doing. But they needed a decent lead first, and this was their only chance to find one.

He glanced at his watch. There were another two and a half hours until it started. Sirius was conducting it (or, rather, he'd said he was conducting it and nobody had objected.). Until then, Sirius had other work to do. He had to watch the past interviews in the pensieve again, and, if he had time, the ones of the day Harry Potter went missing.

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Sirius sighed. Ron hadn't revealed anything that they hadn't already known, (Well, as first glance, anyway. He had people working of the memory not five minutes after Ron had left.)

"_The night he disappeared," said Sirius, "Did you notice anything strange? Anything out of the ordinary?"_

_Ron thought about it. "He went to bed early, and that's not like him. I don't know if he seemed tired or not, but a little while after he went up, there was a bang upstairs. We thought he'd just dropped something heavy. Then when I went to bed later, his curtains were closed. I don't know if he was behind there or not." _

_There was a pause for a moment. "Was there anything else?" asked Sirius, "In the few days beforehand?"_

_Ron frowned. "Yeah," he said after a moment of deliberation, "About a week before everything happened, Harry was out at night. He found this room, an old classroom that had a mirror in it. When he looked into it, he saw his family. Like, his Mum and Dad and everything. He took me to see it the next night, but I didn't see my family. I just saw myself, but I was older and head boy and quidditch captain. After that, we went back to bed. _

"_I didn't go back, but I think Harry might have snuck out another few times."_

Sirius had already known that, as Dumbledore had mentioned he knew Harry had found it and knew what it was. However, Dumbledore hadn't told him what exactly Harry saw- just that it showed your deepest desires. It wasn't really a shock to learn that Harry's deepest desire was to see his parents, but it still twisted a knife inside Sirius.

He shook it off, and got up. He was going to go and search Harry's dormitory again. There wasn't much else he could do, but he needed to be doing _something_.

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So, that's another one done! I'll start on the next as soon as I possibly can, but please bear in mind that real life continues to get in my way!


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